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Hate Me... Please~~Hate Me... Please~~

I want to scream at you
Even though you didn't do anything

I want to sew your lips together
when you happily smile at me

I want to kick you down
After you've picked me up

I want to shut your eyes forever
So I don't have to see them glint with hope

I want to make you cry
When you dry up all my tears

I want to tell you that I hate you... but I can't
Because you love me and you would die if I left

So the thing I want most in the world
Is for you to hate me

Maybe then I wouldn't feel so bad
Not againns again. Yesterday I...

...died.

It begi
smokescreened.
His door didn't seal.

The light leaked through in morse code. It was more dotted than dashed in the shady light of underground morning, smoky from that dirty chainsmoker mouth, chapped and broken from a night of second hand liquor and first hand regret.

He checked his watch. It didn't work.

Even after so long in the darkness, he still opened his eyes every now and again to check if the sun was still out.

He felt it. That mouth still gnawing at his throat, all docile words and violent farewells. Those fingers on his abdomen curling into his stomach and tearing.

His skin.

He coughed.

He was overdue.

The door didn't seal. It was easy eno
The Fourth Wishi.
She's an ocean-eyed dreamer who could fit the skies of a thousand worlds into her mayfly heart. She's got an angel face and a nasty little smile, and she knows all the secrets in her world. All she wants is to carry on dreaming, so she wishes for dragonfly wings and bottled summer nights – and sleep that doesn't have to end. That insidious smile lingers, and she won't surrender her dreams even when her life support stumbles and dies.

ii.
He's a romantic with an acoustic soul and steel string scars on his fingertips. He's saving his lovesongs for a perfect girl with summer rolling off her skin and winter in her eyes, and he's never
Sissy Shopping StoryOne-Handed Reading: Sissy Shopping Story (TG)

"Can I help you find anything?"

The salesgirl's voice startled me a little. I turned and smiled at her, then held up the two tops I had been debating over, one in each hand.

"Actually, yes, you can," I answered, still smiling. "I can't decide which of these to get. Maybe you can help me decide?" The salesgirl nodded and turned her eyes to the shirt I I held out first.

"This one?" I inquired.

It was a lavender stretch shirt, princess seamed with three-quarter sleeves ending in cute turned back cuffs. I already had one similar to it in white, except this one had the longer, more pointed style o
Getting in Her Pants"You lost the bet so you have to do it!" laughed Holly.

"Yeah, I only bet because I thought I would win, though," Ash pouted, hoping to wriggle out of his predicament. "I wouldn't have even bet otherwise."

"Well too bad, Ash," Holly said getting mad. "And, just because you are trying to welsh on the bet, I am going to make it harder."

"Noooo!" cried Ash in horror.

"Since you said if you won I had to let you into my pants," the girl went on, "I am still going to do that now that you have lost."

"Hmmm, let's see ..." Holly turned to her dresser and started rummaging through the drawers. "I was just going to make you wear a pair of my jeans
crash chordsHe named his guitar after me, you know. He told me he'd caress it like it was my own body. He made love to me that night, and for months after I could hear him making music-love to the me-guitar.

Three years later, I found the guitar in his garage sale.

"It's just an instrument, kid," he told me, catching me around the waist and pressing the softest kiss against my neck.

Oh, baby - I knew you would sell my soul someday. But I helped; helped you to the door, at least. As I walked out of our shared life, I broke the guitar for you. And it only struck me later that there was a metaphor in there somewhere, but I was too broken to care.
The Piano The voice you hear is not mine. It forms words, but it's not me. I can no more speak than I could fly; not if you begged me, if you tortured me.

Once, a lifetime time ago, I could sing, and I lived for my song. Once she sang with me, and oh, how beautiful we were.

I sing no more.

I don't know where she went; far away, I believe. Perhaps she replaced me with another who sang more beautifully than I ever could. Though she tried, I give her that, she tried to take me with her; brought me all the way down to the sea shore, onto the very sands, but that's as far as I could go; the end of our life together.

Do you think me foolish, allowing my
remember me. remember, me.
"iio," he said gently, fingers twining in that white hair.

she was terrified of looking at him. for all she knew, he was dead-- and this was his corpse, speaking to her in ashen tongues. these ashes, his ashes

and she was covered in his body.

"look at me. sis..."

"paris," she murmured, still clinging to sleep. this was all she wanted. to lay in his arms. she felt water lapping at her heels. ankles. calves. the water rose and she snapped to.

she was standing, now, on a pyre-- linen figurines peppered the horizon and she balked when she realized she was standing in his coffin. a thousand hands with a million fingers clawed through the rott
caterpillars will become butterflies.You called it a whole other world.

"It's a fortress," you tell me when we sit at the bay window, thrown wide open.

The spider webs would cut thousands of crystal strokes under my windowsill in between rainy seasons, and each morning we'd sit out in the yard and I'd watch you sketch the dewdrops ebbed in the tiny satin tightropes. Your father hated them, but you wouldn't let him touch them.

"Everything so geometric and miniature. It's amazing."

The structure of my bones became geometric and miniature, too, so you could trace every line – sitting in that window, with the curtains billowing like butterfly wings.

But I never noticed tha
wildfire.
he had the taste of dust in his mouth. cottonmouth. it was sand in his teeth. he spat himself out in straight lines, clockwork ticks, washboard fluted and frottoir in nature. he made the same noise every time.

it was like the ridges of his spine rose with the horizon when he pulled his shoulders back.  hard to blink against all that grit.  there were bombshells dessicating his skinwork, indefinite and chaotic. shrapnel fearing folk hid underground. he was not that breed. he stood with the army. he stood as an army. their syncopated swagger stilted the staccato of their future deaths. they were not one. they were not one. and he knew that guy
prompt seven - nosebleedShe said,
"I want you to love me so much it hurts."

======

She said,
"I want to be under your skin."

She was inside him. She was in his veins and under the surface and always on his mind. She sprawled out next to him on top of the covers and let her fingers wander between his blemishes, and asked how she made him feel. The sun was setting in the skyline and her words were weaving around him in time with her lips tracing his aura while he fumbled over what she meant. There were gaps between his teeth and he lost the words to tell her that without her, he was going numb. He was losing the sensations in his nerves and nervous system and ner
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March 19, 2011
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(Contains: sexual themes, violence/gore, strong language and ideologically sensitive material)

declassified information .Y

:iconb0x0rz:


it was just the three of us. the rapist, pedophile, murder and - the agent.

the agent in charge had no clue what i was after. he was the one that caught the bastard after a long hunt. i guess someone, somewhere was laughing his sick ass off assigning him to me.

"now - you will answer questions by this man, or they will carry you out of here. i was told you are to answer whatever he asks", he pointed at me, "or i am to use any means possible to make you talk."
"i ain't telling you shit!! what the fuck can you do to me. i'm serving seven life sentences. so fuck you", he told the agent.

"fuck information", i said, "i need you to kill a guy for me. publicly. today. he's in prison with you - different ward. we'll move you."
"what?", they both said at the same time.

"you deaf? i won't repeat myself."
"who?"
i told him.
"are you fucking insane. do you know what they will do to me? nothing you can do will ever save me. i'm dead - fucking today. no fucking way, you feeling me? fuck you both!!"
"you do it - - you get out..."
"WHAT? ARE YOU FUCKING INSANE??? HE'S A FUCKING PEDOPHILE, MURDERER...", the agent jumped up and interrupted.
"you do it - - you get out. no questions asked. clean slate. you get pension and relocation to wherever the fuck you want. deal?"
"YOU CAN'T FUCKING DO THAT. I WON'T LET YOU."
"really? - read this."

...

"IMMEDIATE RELEASE? WHERE THE FUCK DID YOU GET THIS. WHO THE FUCK ARE YOU. THIS IS THE SIGNATURE..."
"yes it is."

i pulled out my gun. pushed it across the table.
"take it. we have a deal?"
"SHIT. FUCK. JESUS. HOLLY MOTHER OF - FUCK. HOW CAN YOU DO THIS?? HE FUCKS CHILDREN. HE IS AN ANIMAL. HE WILL DO IT AGAIN, THE SICK FUCK! JESUS FUCKING CHRIST."
"not an issue."
"NOT AN ISSUE??? NOT AN ISSUE??? NOT AN ISSUE??? HOW IS THAT NOT THE FUCKING ISSUE?"
"yeah, we have a deal. is this legit?"

the door opened. his lawyer walked in. she was pale. scared.
"yes. yeah... i verified it with the state's attorney. you do this, you walk - today."

"ARE YOU PEOPLE FUCKING CRAZY??? I HUNTED HIM FOR YEARS. YOU KNOW WHAT HE'S DONE, YOU FUCKING DEFENDED HIM... AND YOU - WHAT THE FUCK, I'LL KILL THE FUCKING GUY MYSELF - DON'T DO THIS!"
"it is what it is."

"WHY?"
"honestly? i have no idea", i lied.
"JESUS MARY AND JOSEPH."

"fuck it i'll do it. RIGHT FUCKING NOW!"
"great. unlock", i pointed at the cuffs.
"we'll arrange for him to be in the yard. you'll be taken out as soon as its done. now get to it."

"YOU ARE A FUCKING LUNATIC. WHO DO YOU BLOODY WORK FOR?"
"like i am going to tell you."

i sat there until they brought him back. not a drop of blood on him, breathing heavily. the agent was yelling at someone on the phone outside the room.
"it's done. now i walk?"
"your country thanks you."
"you are really going to let me go? i thought it was a fucking long shot, but..."
"nobody cares about a few children", i answered, "that is the world we live in. enjoy."

i left. the agent caught up with me outside, slamming the cell phone against the wall.
"WHAT THE FUCK DID YOU DO?"
"it had to go down like this. thank you for your help."
"WHAT THE FUCK. FUCK YOU AND YOURS. FUCK YOU."
"your country thanks you."
"FUCK YOU MOTHERFUCKER. ASSHOLE... YOU FUCKING SON OF A BITCH...", the torrent of abuse continued while i walked away.
:iconb0x0rz:
mature content for a reason.
posted under fiction, for it would be too sad if it was true, and nobody wishes to believe that it could be true, anyhow.

based on true events.

not disgusted enough? read on...

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:iconallixsenos:
`allixsenos Mar 19, 2011  Hobbyist Photographer
"THERE WAS FUCKING A BETTER WAY, SURELY."

a fucking better way?
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