| We sin, we die...we are mortals. |
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Christmas Tree : Your Spare Parts
dear friends,
It's christmas isnt it?Anyone thinking of cheers for a a merry christmas?My house is bare you could help me.
your eyes
would be perfect for my christmas balls.Though none of you have blue eyes black christmas eyeballs would be fine.
feel that tubes in your wrist?
I think that would be nice if I tangle it for christamas wreaths.cool...
hey see that hairs on your head?
that would be use as the bristle for my tree, but I hope you dye and bleach that to green.Or maybe you could bleach it to make it white,for a white christmas.
your bones
it would suit my plan , making an 8ft. tall tree.What do you think spruce orfir.Better e-mail me so as to make the most of your spare parets.
that properly trimmed nails
that would be ok if I use it as a shade for my lights.You could just imagine red and blue polished nails adorning my tree.
and of course that candle shape digitals..
that would be nice if I make a five pointed stars..for the top.and also the toes I could make I miniature stars from that.
your lungs or liver...what ever.I dont know which.
beautiful if I slice it like the papercut of angels imagine...10 angfels around my tree.
well since that the "hype" in todays Xmas deco is red...
I need that flowing watery substance in you system to paint my room ...and everything around it.
your white dentures...
lets count 'em all 1..3...9...32 in all including the molars great.I could use that to glitter my tree.
abs...think of this losing your flab on that fat area...
I'll use that as a wax for my christmas candles.maybe some of your pubic hair i could use a wick to burn the candle.Yeah your right hairs dont burn.maybe I just use that undies was once soaked with
urine, for the wick.
hey save that urine...
i could use that to improve that scent of my scented candle....piss scented candle.
ooops, I nearly forgot...SKIN
your skin I could use that to wrap my gifts and cover the patch in some of my lanterns.
and lastly your remaining blood
give them to me at least six gallons, for dinuguan (stew for you american friend)and the meat beats for the viandson my table.
I am not finish yet.
then your feet..
that would do good if I soak it in a vinegared water, and peel afterwards like socks.For Santa's stocking.
maybe I'll just dismiss the idea of making a five pointed stars out of your fingers maybe I'll just make it like mittens.For chaRITY.tO BE GIVEN ON CHILDREn, who spend their nights n chilly streets.That's the essence of xmas, isnt it?Giving.
your heart..
probably that wont be used up , I'll save it for february I'l decorate that for valentines day.It would rest on my chest, a chest freezer.But the vessels and cords that goes with it could be use to tie the trinkets on my tree.
your rhinoplasted nose...
hey i havent thought of that I could use that to hold my piss scented candles.
what else? ur brain...
It could be used as the crowning glory for my tree since the star and silver angels are a bygone idea.But since the temp. here is not less than 15 degree Celsisus it would drip and melt to fall to the ground and splatter in thousand directions.SOme particle would get to visitors faces and "what's this ? this is the lightest souffle` i ever tasted"No I would not let them a pice of your already small brain.I'll eat it on my own and serve on a platter complete with caramel and condensed milk...heavenly.But perhaPS ur brain is just a fistfull of a 5 yr old child ,,, saucer would be just fine.
and all the odds and ends..( read:vaginal fluid,nose poop,sperm-ur lovers leavings,sweat and unspitted spit)
could be used to spice up my noche buena and ur tounge could be used to slurp the remaining sauce on my saucer.
THATS ALLL!
MErry christmas,I hope you could come to my house
and start my decorations.
love ,
dalevil
p.s. who's gonna help me|?clean up the mess.
aybe you could and leave our other friends as an object of my decorations.
My Apple of Discord
On the ground
I am there
like a worm
amidst the thistles
and thorns.
But I am a human
who needs to
creep and aim
with the hope of
advancing
and rising.
While crawling
trying
failing
to stand.
I can stand!
realizing this
the earth shakes as
I extend forth
my hands.
Holding and fixing
my stand
Only to fall
helplessly
on the ground.
I tried again
to reach you
your so high
almost stellar
the apple
of my eyes.
I crawl again
hoping again
my knees already
bleeding.
I can stand again.
This time
the earth is static.
I could reach
and extend my hands.
Your so fair
up there
my apple.
I pluck you
then you disintegrate
into ashes.
The apple of discord.
Your false
your fake
a lunatic fancy
you never existed
to nurture
but to torture
my wretched soul.
You existed
to delude
to breathe a
fog of illusion
I was a fool
to believe
that the apple
so high
so fair
is the answer
for my longing,
My felicity.
You are just
a dream
a summer fancy.
This time I fall
again
not with a thud
but with a crash
imitating the sound
of a shattering glass
to thousand shards.
My life.
Next time
you'll find me
six feet below the ground.
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You are Gone
my painted whore....
Vividly could I recall
our clandestine activity
from our nocturnal tryst
bloody could I term
our relationship
sanguine was the tie
that bound us
into frantic motion
and satiating stillness
I was on top
you were down
kissing your scarlet lips
the salty sweetness of blood
reaching my buds
probing my tounge
deeper on your throat
tracing the blood
sticking by your tonsils
you clawing my back
red thing leaking
turning up side down
you sprinkling salt
on the ruby marks
then licking the red licks
your cat-eyes fiery with lust
raking my back
I choking your breath
with my membrum virile
pleasure on your face
your mouth sucking my dry
lust and more juice of lust
flowing in,sucking me dry
bleeding me dry.
You making me lap
your wet skin
eating it like cake
glaze and frosting
coming
red pleasure. torn
broken.teeth eaten
a piece of flesh
a pain of climax
never ceasing till
the two of us
is soaking on the pool of
our lust.the blood
sharp razor
grazing at my skin
pleasure, again overcoming
my being.
your comely,
demonic laughter
wafting in the air
pleasure.
Vividly could I transform
a memory into flesh
But your epitaph
I am facing.
You are there down
below the earth's bound
Kissing your epitaph
to be kissed back by the
coldness of the stone.
tasting the dust of emptiness
on the slit of my lips.
before it was you
and I
now you're gone
It's only
solitude and the silver scythe
taunting me to take my life
and follow you
beyond the beyond
You left a hair thin
ash and blood of trails
Your only presence.
Digging your grave
for white roses
plant it there
and make it red.
Red...our color
I'll cut my wrist
to make the white roses
the vivid red of
sado-masochism.
my white trench coat
dripping with blood
I'm ready to follow.
My Painted Whore. pass my site |
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