A masochist’s love song

I curse this volatile mind, one that finds bliss in lacerations of flesh

fabrications of my own dismembered body. this I dream

I find comfort in plasma, pouring from an open wound

I conjure images, belly slit, unfurling intestines, soft and warm in my palms

My body is a vessel, it’s privilege knows no bounds

But I am a masochist

and my pleasure lies in it’s demise



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5 responses to “A masochist’s love song

  1. gophergold

    This should be read to kindergärtners everywhere. The expressions on their little faces would be great.

    Seriously, though, I do like this poem. Very deep and moving.


  2. Illicit By Nature

    This is really good! Also liking the new display picture :)


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