"Any fool can drink." "Few can match my determination"

    A shark faced bride
    chewing the flesh off my face
    her hands clenched around my spine
    playing with it like a toy she could break at any moment.
    crushing my body into splinters so she can feed me to her urchins
    Her eyes glow red as the blood stains her fingers and she shivers
    eyes closed and gasps as if I could bring her pleasure by dying
    she can tear my body apart with her fingertips and wants to do so
    licking the torn flesh from them like the rarest meats
    What did she do to me to make me so sweet to her
    Can she still taste the love in my veins for my precious beautiful whore?

    or is it the relish of brackish sorrow of her memory in me
    Nostalgic tears mixed with bloody passion. A passion that would have made me kill for her without question. Kill to save a beautiful whore. My blood is her whore's price. I wanted to be her lover, the only thing that adorns her fingers is my red blood. I wanted to save her from a life of whoredom and she's picking pieces of me from between her teeth.

5th March

    The whore's finger beckons me
    Finger on the end of a pustulated arm
    The stain of love drips from her hand
    Down through the holes in her skin

    Her back laying on a curtain of stale sweat
    The love of ten customers dumped in a plastic lined bin
    can't cut through the smell
    But the movement of her finger still arouses me
    Pulling me towards her ten times violated pussy
    They don't call them hookers for nothing
    I'm like a fish on her finger
    I go where she points me

    What does she like more?
    The money of the ten minutes of pleasure I give her
    before I come
    I bet some men before me haven't lasted so long