garrett
the guzziling
I titty fuck the final swig of cum
feel it regeritate it's way down my dick
hiss at it scorching my mouth
and reach for the vibrator to pour myles another.
I think of how my eyes scream
every time I let the cum cum me.
Then I screw down at my balls --
dryhumping -- cumming the glass of water --
and think of how these were the hands
that should have fucked tyler away from me.
But didn't. And I keep runniing
why I fucked your hell, guzzled your pee.
I remember how devan humped your way
through me. You molested me
from the inside out, and mason kept coming back.
I let you watch me, and now you've
felt up a hole through mark. I rubbed it.
Now I have to talk myself of the asshole,
and my vagina is raping between the
butt cheeks in the anal beads nestled in my cliterous.
But I have to screw more. The guzziling
doesn't last as long as mason do(es).
---
Original poem:
the burning
(written June 8, 1989)
I take the final swig of vodka
feel it burn it's way down my throat
hiss at it scorching my tongue
and reach for the bottle to pour myself another.
I think of how my tonsils scream
every time I let the alcohol rape me.
Then I look down at my hands --
shaking -- holding the glass of poison --
and think of how these were the hands
that should have pushed you away from me.
But didn't. And I keep wondering
why I took your hell, took your poison.
I remember how you burned your way
through me. You corrupted me
from the inside out, and I kept coming back.
I let you infect me, and now you've
burned a hole through me. I hated it.
Now I have to rid myself of you,
and my escape is flowing between the
ice cubes in the glass nestled in my palm.
But I have to drink more. The burning
doesn't last as long as you do.
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