stains and cigarettes

the air was steep, and
the sheets were stained, and
my mind was stale
all, from the day being fucked,
literally fucked and fucked, away

there were remnants of love and regret all around

“Lena, pass me a cigarette”

she passed me three

“why three?”

“i’m going to fuck you twice more before the sun sets and i have to leave”

“fair enough”

i rolled over, and lit her up once more

yet to be decided

this old, ragged lion
wanders, searching,
the streets, passing
easy prey
for you.

i will find you.

you will find me
digging my claws, and
digging my teeth, and
digging my sex, into you-
-r heart, your soul, your
fucking, fucking, fucking mind.

whether this is the end of you,
or the start of us,
is yet to be decided.


the best cocksucker i ever knew was my high school girlfriend, kriston. she had long dyed hair, purple and red, and wore an iron maiden t-shirt. she learnt her skills from her previous boyfriend, who was 8 years older, and supplied us both with grass. my favourite memory of her is the time we laid naked on her parents bed. i pulled three bongs and she blew me three times. i never fucked her, and i never loved her, but we sure knew how to waste away a weekend.