Her stench hung in the air like a stale 20 ferrying dust into your nose. The course wires protruding from her scalp hadn’t seen any liquid but sweat since just about as long as her grime covered face. Fingernails painted black with decay look the same as press-ons in the heat of the moment. Desperation flows like any red carpet dress and she looked more beautiful drenched in it than any starlet i have ever seen. She was stunning, and I couldn’t resist her. In the same way that cavemen clubbed females on the head i would do anything to have her and yet never admit the way I felt or what I did too anyone, especially myself. Fortunately for me her bed was rock bottom and there she lay, helpless, pathetic.
Ever wonder why you have dark thoughts? What’s that? You don’t? Don’t lie to me, your just as bad as the rest of them deluding yourself through sheer curtains made of painted on smiles and broken teeth. I don’t really give a damn if you wanna know I’m gonna tell you anyway. You have dark thoughts because you want to, you crave them you crave what you can’t have cause the populous says you can’t. On the surface you’re quiet and content with your life but underneath you wanna do everything you pretend makes you sick. And that’s why I’m doing this, doing her. Every time you almost die you taste life for a brief second and in that second you wished you fucked her, you wish you’d killed him and you wish you hadn’t hidden behind the mask of humanity. So what are you gonna do after this moments over? Shy away? Put your damn falsetto grin back on? Or are you gonna take her and do everything she wants you too, no i don’t think you will, your pathetic.