Thursday, February 17, 2011

To filthy masticators...

It's freezing outside, yet daffodils have the audacity to bloom. Even in the cold.

I find it intriguing, where desire blossoms. We find ourselves surrounded by many things to want, yet you perverts come to Me, for that which dare not speak it's name. Your selfish hidden needs get wrapped up so tight, the knots occasionally refuse to be unspun.

It's the quiet and the still, that gives us air to open. When all else has settled and you've no distractions to distort, that thing you hide will rise. And you best hold on. We both know your fear.

"Will this thing tear me down into nothing. Will I be seen with the forbidden, and be cast out. Will others know me." The true you.

I bet that scares and delights you, dear reader. I'll bet it fuels your hardness.

I'm a vegetarian for the most part, yet at times, My body craves to swallow flesh. Flesh which lived and walked this earth. I lapse into being a meat eater, and purr after a fresh feast of this. Puts Me in touch with the animal I am. The beast which hunts and conquers.

And we both know, you're dessert.