The Beast, revised version.

*Explicit content to follow

I spread my fingers closing my left eye and looking at my grazed knuckles, flexing my fingers back and forth before planting my hand on his head and thrusting myself deep into his mouth. I take the cigarette from between my lips with my left hand and look up to the ceiling, watching the smoke mingle with dust in the air.
The warmth of his breath on my cock doesn’t make me feel any less alone, to the contrary, i want to cry while also confess to the deepest of my sins.
Really, I just want to punch his face in.

earlier tonight, before I got this geezer guzzling me down like a first prize I was like a bull let loose for the first time. I stood at the bar watching dust particles float in the rays of strobe lights, drinking whiskey and smoking possibly smoking my millionth cigarette of the day. The world was red and like a bull I kicked up my hooves and I charged. I saw him, my doppleganger and h was dressed in a black hoodie, the hood over his head and bloodshot eyes from all the sleepless nights trying to tame the savage inside. I see him, he’s walking through trails of lights, he’s laughing at everything I’ve ever done and seen just by walking on this earth bearing my name and my face. He’s a mockery of everything I’ve ever wanted to be. He doesn’t know I’ve locked onto him yet. I’m following him through the haze of smoke and lights and the music is loud as loud can be, the music is so loud that my skull is fractured from the sound waves and I’m fairly certain it damaged some of my brain. I drop the cigarette on the ground and someone else treads on it in their high heels, I brush past her, her silky dress touches the skin on my hand and the hair on my neck stands up. But my eyes are honing in on him, my doppleganger and I’m following him and I’m letting the beast run. I had already spun the web, I knew the beast in me would devour him, mouth gaping open wide, jaws snapping, crunching at the very core of him, the bad apple, and my twin. For all the memories, all the fucked up seeds he planted in my head,  only to find they couldn’t germinate because the visions were wrong, the grief, the yearnings and he kept on planting those seeds and I grieve what I never lost, but the ideas they were strong enough and all along I was following a lost cause!
The toilet lights flickered, the dingy tiles yellowing from years of piss and cigarettes. Names and insults scribbled in black marker pens. The room was the colour of sick, the sound of water dripping from a leaking pipe echoed, ricocheting from stall to stall and straight into my skull. And I see him, the man who tried to birth seeds he knew nothing about, his hoodie up as if to shroud him from any potential witnesses to his sickening face. His eyes are bloodshot and he’s looking at me and I’m looking at him and we both know what’s about to go down .I step back and let the beast finally go for what he’s been so eager to taste, and lurching forwards I grab at my doppelganger and my arms, the veins showing under my skin as my fist clenches tight and with all the power the beast can muster my fist smacks my doppelganger in the face, again, again, AGAIN! AGAIN! The bathroom goes red, everything is red. “YOU!” I scream at the top of my lungs, lunging forwards again, PHUMP, PHUMP, PHUMP. Spittle falls from my lips and the punches keep on coming and my fist is aching but I continue anyway.  “I HATE YOU”

“I love you” she whispers in my ear “I love the bare bones of you” I whisper. The sun spangles through the blind slats and we lay in bed, her legs wrapped around me and her head on my chest. And the sun spangles through the blind slats and the shadows on the wall watch on and we lay in bed and we’re at harmony with the world. She kisses my chest.

PHUMP! PHUMP! PHUMP!

it’s been 6 months. We’re laying in bed and the sun spangles through the, the wall is glittered in shadow and our bare feet stick out from under the covers. It’s just like in the beginning and she says “I love you” and I whisper “I love the bare bones of you” and the sun continues to shine rays through the slats and I watch dust particles float in the rays and I feel sick and the room is spinning and the ash tray is smashed on the carpet, a photograph is torn, a spot of blood on the carpet. I get out of the bed and I in all my naked splendour I stand at the blinds, hand on the wand ready to close them fully, for a glimpse the sun shines on my face and the bruise and gash around my eye are clear to see along with the bust lip.


PHUMP! PHUMP! PHUMP

I go online in secret, “Escaping violence” I enter into the search engine plenty of results, one has a title that implies they know exactly how to help, my mouse hovers over it then I realise the link, it says ‘justiceforwomen.com.’ Another site ‘ Women escaping violence’ another site ‘help for abused and battered women’ ‘steps to ending domestic violence leaflet for women and children’

Blood trickles down my hand, my knuckles barely seeming to exist anymore.

I try to imagine this geezer is a woman, flicking her hair back as she looks up at me with a sweet glistening sparkle in her eyes, her lips puckered as she kisses the head of my penis. I try with all my might to not notice the masculinity in his body, the clear male features of his face, closing my eyes, opening them looking down, looking up at the ceiling, pushing his head down and thrusting as deep as I can till I finally ejaculate. “Fuck off” I hiss as I zip my trousers back up “before I beat you the fuck up!”
he looks at me, still on his knees
“What the fuck are you doing? Praying?” I lift him
“You have issues!” He says, his eyes filled with the sadness of someone who feels used.
I’m sorry “LEAVE” I turn my back to him and listen carefully for the door closing behind him.
 

An unedited version of the “the best” was posted on a previous blog. So if the theme of the story and character are familiar to you, thats why.

Crimson red

On our breaths
Secrecy lingers
We don’t know why
But we’re like
Strangers

We never meant
For this to last
Wipe it all away
It’s in the past

But still we’re stood here
Melancholy whispers
In the breeze
A silence that lingers
Like a ghost amongst the trees
All the blood that has been shed
In secrecy
Will mess with our heads
And you will walk away
Nothing said
Just a stream flowing through it
Crimson red

(c) 2015

Weakness. You’re missing the signs.

I am going to keep this short. Because i’m feeling like a lazy gorilla.

We’re getting it wrong. It shows itself all the time. We’re getting it fucking wrong.

We continue to make the same mistakes.

The mistake in HOW we talk mens issues.

I hear the same shit everytime. Wanting to allow men to ‘open’ up and show their ‘weaknesses’ We have been saying it for years now.

Do you know what the real problem is? Are you really ready to hear it?

You want weakness to always look the same. So you only look for those signs. You miss the rest.

Red

I heard her footsteps approach
I poured me a drink and settled down
She wore red shoes and a red dress
Red lipstick and her handbag matched too
But inside she was mismatched just like me
“Red is the colour of passion” she had always said

My face shrouded by cigarette smoke
She peered through said
“Smokin’ another nail in your coffin I see”
Hands on her hips
Glaring back at me
Till she tore that cigarette from my lips
“I aint seeing you croak on my watch”

She had that sultry look in her eyes
And I was duty bound
Got up and took her into the night
Nothing needed to be said
In the silence we mutually agreed
To paint the night in red

written 2015 posted on previous blog(c)

The boys we were

We sat and watched the trains
Listened to their wheels screech on the line
Our faces dusty and muddy from play
But we always fell to silence to watch the trains
Going this a-way and that a-way
And we mimicked the sounds in our games
“WOOoWOoooo”

We’d run too close to the tracks
And our mothers screamed “Get back!”
And oh how we laughed
And our faces looked on with anticipation
As the rumble of a train could be heard
In the distance

And the paper mill would sound an alarm
And we’d burrow down under a bench
Because under there we’d come to no harm
Our grandfathers told us of the wars
And in our imaginations a fight was ahead
And we were evacuee’s waiting for a train

And our little dusty faces
Peered under hats
And our grandparents would clean us
By spitting onto a handkerchief
And we’d squirm
And wash our faces again behind their backs

Now the boys we used to be
Sit frozen in sepia photographs

Written in 2014-2015 (c)

Left me blue

I don’t want to let you go
I want to float away with you
I want to go into oblivion too
My identity insists on you

I can still hear your footsteps echoing
I’m trying to reconstruct these memories
Sharp as razor edges, broken in pieces

I’m trying to find our reflection
But all I see is a stranger fading from me
Your face began to wane
And now you look like anyone

And I’m afraid
Because though you’re slipping away
I’ve left a part of me too
And it’ll always be with you
But all you left me
Were different shades of blue

2014-2015 (c)