Interior Monologue
Turn the lights out.
His hands roamed roughly like stone scrubbing the grub off of my mucky pigmentation every time he sight blemished spots poisoning the fineness of my aesthetic existence. Sigh. It felt great when his fingers strummed the peaks of my chest, hardening the mounts with his sundrenched touch, sending me vibrations of intensified excitement every time he stops himself from teasing the sanity away from my lucid mind. His possessive lips rolled like fire across my neck, down to the rise and fall of my chest, leaving patterns of constellations bruised and stained by his luscious spittle. Crazed. He never stopped. I never asked him to. He continued his immaculate caress dribbling like unspoken words out of his honeyed eyes, filling …show more content…
Every moment I ceased to believe not of the world I envision when the shadows devours me into the realms of my unmeasured thoughts that segregates me from reality’s quarantine. A cup of sugarless coffee wasn’t powerful enough to pull me away from the night of surrender. I wanted not to dream but every time I close my eyes, sanctuary seems to muffle me. It’s the only time where I am able to dance with the spirits of my soul. It’s the only place where I am able to express the extravagant selfishness my heart cursed to unleash. It’s the only world I am able to sight him. It’s the only mental asylum I am able to be hysterically in touch with …show more content…
The depths of his breath were heavy against my nape, caking my tasteless ear with his tongue that never stopped me from hyperventilating—breaking my fantasies into fragments of kaleidoscopic shards that gave spectral colors to the rainbow every after the rampage of solidarity rain. I couldn’t help but to huff the roll of smoke out of my lungs, fuming it above my twitching eyes, fogging my mind with his name, his name and only his name. The compression of his hands pressured the beatings of the stars that collided with my heart, making me moan my desires, taught me to beseech beneath the moon that he is my only. That I am his only.
Slap me.
Winced—
It’s getting strange. Was I enchanted by the demons of this world’s darkest phantoms? Was I, by all means, given up my religion for the idolatry of him? Was I, from flesh to blood and bones, diabolically diluted the holy ghosts that cradles me down to my knees? The revelations of him—was I …what was I again?
Day one, I tried not to sleep.
Day two, I failed.
Day three, I wished I never slept
Day four, I regretted
His hands roamed roughly like stone scrubbing the grub off of my mucky pigmentation every time he sight blemished spots poisoning the fineness of my aesthetic existence. Sigh. It felt great when his fingers strummed the peaks of my chest, hardening the mounts with his sundrenched touch, sending me vibrations of intensified excitement every time he stops himself from teasing the sanity away from my lucid mind. His possessive lips rolled like fire across my neck, down to the rise and fall of my chest, leaving patterns of constellations bruised and stained by his luscious spittle. Crazed. He never stopped. I never asked him to. He continued his immaculate caress dribbling like unspoken words out of his honeyed eyes, filling …show more content…
Every moment I ceased to believe not of the world I envision when the shadows devours me into the realms of my unmeasured thoughts that segregates me from reality’s quarantine. A cup of sugarless coffee wasn’t powerful enough to pull me away from the night of surrender. I wanted not to dream but every time I close my eyes, sanctuary seems to muffle me. It’s the only time where I am able to dance with the spirits of my soul. It’s the only place where I am able to express the extravagant selfishness my heart cursed to unleash. It’s the only world I am able to sight him. It’s the only mental asylum I am able to be hysterically in touch with …show more content…
The depths of his breath were heavy against my nape, caking my tasteless ear with his tongue that never stopped me from hyperventilating—breaking my fantasies into fragments of kaleidoscopic shards that gave spectral colors to the rainbow every after the rampage of solidarity rain. I couldn’t help but to huff the roll of smoke out of my lungs, fuming it above my twitching eyes, fogging my mind with his name, his name and only his name. The compression of his hands pressured the beatings of the stars that collided with my heart, making me moan my desires, taught me to beseech beneath the moon that he is my only. That I am his only.
Slap me.
Winced—
It’s getting strange. Was I enchanted by the demons of this world’s darkest phantoms? Was I, by all means, given up my religion for the idolatry of him? Was I, from flesh to blood and bones, diabolically diluted the holy ghosts that cradles me down to my knees? The revelations of him—was I …what was I again?
Day one, I tried not to sleep.
Day two, I failed.
Day three, I wished I never slept
Day four, I regretted