It scratched its way out the
chambers of my heart, whispering, “Close your eyes, my sweet, this night is my
gift.” I didn’t always know it, then I felt it, crouched inside me, waiting to
jump, drunk on thoughts of pleasure and destruction. I didn’t suspect that it
watched me constantly, touching parts of me I knew not, speaking to my blood,
telling my flesh, “It is the only way, to demonstrate love is to make it—with soul,
with teeth, with tongue. Open your body. I am meant to be free, not a slave to what
you think you know of me. Let me breathe. I can’t make you feel good, if you
aren’t ready for bad. What do you say?”
love can be
a monster, or not—
this is a collaboration inspired by my stitched blackout, “Love can be a
monster, or not” and the contributions listed below. Thank you, everyone. If
you do not see your name/comment, and you contributed when I asked, worry not…
this is the first of 3. Also, I tweaked (genders, tenses) and/or mixed similar ideas, in order to make them fit.
- “Ah” he breathes “this night is my gift to you”
- Listen to what I say unto you: the only way to demonstrate love is to make
- “I didn’t know it and one day
I discovered it in a corner of my heart. Crouched. Waiting to jump to destroy
- He watched her constantly.
- “Close your eyes,” he whispers.
- And scratch its way out the chambers of your heart
@travcollins_ - Love is free but I have become a slave to you and I can not breathe.
- for Poets and Storytellers United (Weekly Scribblings #60: Troubled Relationships).