Monday, March 23, 2015

So, I turn to you;)

I’ve taken you for granted, you – 20% angel and 80% devil. You – my addictive drug, my terminal condition by choice. Ruining the most of me, eroding the very essence of me; leaving only perversion behind in its raw occult form. Your flesh – my existential need, your juices – my obsessive way of surviving on this edge of us. So, I turn to you – my hide, my haven, my two – legged personal hell of mine… I turn to you!

Your claim on me is total, beyond life and reality. I’m yours, for bad and worse. Own me, shred me, leave a hurting mark on every piece of me, recreate me which ever way you see fit – as long as your devilish self prevails. Your undisputed deranged savage slave, my youth and my wicked all – your possession to have, only to turn me… so, I turn to you!

You’ve started this, so allow me to tune it up. The idea is… we’re hardly ever fresh out of ideas, so… I turn to you;)


  1. Replies
    1. Of course she did, they all do:) At least for a while;)

    2. "...they all do....for a while..."

      I would say that I'm so damn tired of only whiles, but then even a lifetime is merely a while.