Tag Archives: sex

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It was never a surrender to ones own deviance that unnerved me. In fact, when it’s done correctly – openly and genuinely – I tend to find it quite endearing.

It was never those beautiful, chaotic souls that embrace thier animal instincts that worried me. Rather, most of the time it would make me swoon.

After all, a wolf will display it’s teeth before it springs forth and sinks them into your throat. And a spider will raise unto it’s haunches and let it’s venom slowly drip before it spills it into your bloodstream.
These are the warnings, and those of us who choose to ignore them duly deserve the latter of each scenario.
But what’s so interesting about complexity of the human mind is although we know very well what happens next…….. there are still those few of us who crave it.

Some of us desperately.

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I sat on my back porch this morning and watched as the blackening clouds above began to create a tempestuous atmosphere – scattering my notebooks around on the table. I saw two small butterflies mating in the midst of all this dismay and watched as they were thrown about in violent wind gusts and torrential rain. Torn apart, then hurtling towards each other again in order to finish despite every type of disorder imaginable. Gripping onto one another regardless of the fact that neither creature could provide any reasonable argument of what is it they expect to accomplish through all this insanity.  Driven solely by subconscious requirements, and a complete disregard of any reasonable voice within telling them to go home alone where it is safe.

I snickered to myself, because I as watched these frail insects endanger themselves and each other repeatedly, I was aware that it was merely due to some type of instinctual desire. Nothing more than sex and survival. A mindless act embedded deep within their DNA.
However, if I was ever asked to give the definition of “love” in humans,  I would describe this very scenario before me.

Love is very capable of becoming a type of institutionalized abandonment of all rational thought.
It is the wings that continually push us towards each other, unaware of the pitch black around us ripping us apart.
Love is collecting every type of type of madness and yet smiling each morning – the way the mentally ill stare off in the corners of dirty asylums, oblivious to anything else.

And sex and survival are merely just an excuse.

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“I miss you, too”

Only those words hardly reached me. They fell from her mouth and smashed on the ground like dinner plates from unsteady shelves and, similarly, all I felt was the residual regret of knowing that I now had quite a mess to clean up because she misunderstood me.

The words were,  “I misused you”
And what’s worse is that I intend on doing it again.

But this is where things begin to blur a little bit because her leg was wrapped around my waist like soft, porcelain hook I couldn’t seem to escape and I found that very disorientating. My left palm was on the small of her back pushing her into my abdomen and the other hand was hiding in the coils of her dark hair. Her hair was so impossibly long. I imagined her floating lifeless on top of the ocean with that hair dangling miles beneath her, beneath the waves and swaying so slowly in the water  like poison ribbons from a man-o-war. And I was swimming straight towards it.

I had a fistful of these dark, poison ribbons now in my right hand and I used it to direct her head inches from my face. I looked into her light blue eyes and all I could think is that they are not deep enough to drown in. Hardly enough to even splash around in temporarily- like a child. I craved the murky bottomless dark of brown eyes. Thats what I needed, a quiet place to drown. I brushed my thumb against her soft bottom lip like a fish hook and I turned and let her teeth sink into the back of my neck creating a vast wound. The type of wound that is not so easily compressed and soon, great rivers of dark red fluid began to fill up the entire club and all I could distinguish was arms,  so many arms moving in so many directions. Frantically snatching drinks from the bar and dragging them back to thier mouths like chameleon tongues.  Arms flailing about and tangled with other arms. Wrapped around bottles, wrapped around bodies,  wrapped around purses, pushed against bathroom stalls and shoved down throats. All I could see was hundreds of arms splashing around above the blood red tide issuing from me and great, bloody waves crashing over their heads, submerging them entirely and the coils of her poisonous hair covering the place, tangling and collecting bodies. Every-bodies body, but not mine. I could swim right through unharmed. And I remember that feeling brought me so much dread,  as all I wanted was to die silently in those ribbons but for some forsaken reason I was unaffected and I used it all to my advantage like a clownfish living momentarily in anemone.

I used every piece of her body. Every strand of her hair and every drop of her blood and I swam away and left her floating lifeless on top of the ocean.

Collecting bodies.

Every-bodies body but mine.

I need to find a quiet place to drown.

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