Mat Gilson

I want you because you are beautiful, is that so wrong? 

Fine, 

fine. 

I want you because I have pedestalized your desire for me, like a mounted head. I want you because I would like to claim your desire for me. I have seen your light shine elsewhere, on the stinking wretches of your proximity. I will not have your light shine on anyone else.

You have filled the room and all of the pockets of air in the room and all of the corners of the room and all of the spaces and hollows of my body. I am disgusted by you, and by this fullness. My feelings for you are seeping from me like a stench, the disdain is wafting off of me in sheets, like rain. You’re soaked in it. 

Fine. 

Fine. 

Now that I have you I despise your attentions. You are cheapened by your concession to my whim, you are disgusting in your corporeal manifestation. Your wetness, and your rough coverings, and your crushing weight. Disgusted by your flesh which remains flesh no matter how far into it I dig my nails. So I am going to peel back your skin and I am going to peel back the muscle from your bones and I am going to expose the flesh that is not flesh, but the essence of you beneath the material of your body. I am going to expose your intangible soul to the air, the air which is intangible but I know it is there, I know it is there. I am going to hurt you because it is going to hurt. I am going to reveal you as I know you, I am going to reveal you.