But why can’t I ever
start with something in mind,
with some sort of plan.
Nothing’s sorted, and all I can picture in my
head is Scenes from Men In Black and
walking at night outside with you.
But that can’t be all there is, I know there’s something
more. Your eyes they dangle like green Christmas ornaments
on a white Christmas tree, sparkling in the lights,
mesmerizing me. But you don’t know, no you
don’t have a clue.
You don’t need me, know me, want me you ass,
but the only difference here is that I want you, want to
know you, want to need you and need your
warm embrace that snatches my ribcage and
my hipbones, my creepy crawly horniness.
I race my fingers down your back, claws
retract, my chinese calendar told me I’m a dog, but
I must be a cat, a selfish slutty sleepy sore in your
mouth, though you’re in mine.
I’m sorry I’m such a failure, such a liar, such a
cheat, but I have to release it someway and you
offered also selfishly; like there’s any other way.
I can’t always control myself, it needs to be let out
or she’ll eat me from the inside-out
the door I yell at you like a bitch, but you follow
me inside and it makes for a hell of a game
that we like to keep playing.
I’m getting tired of this game.
time for bed, goodnight, adieu, gute nacht
I actually feel pretty proud of this. I started with the sole intention of coloring the entire page with a black pen, but as I just let loose, images began to form and I expounded upon them. It was not only a fun and exciting exercise, it really brought out some of my confidence in my style of creating. Doing this again fo sho