Sometimes, in the death of night, I awaken, to make sure your arms are there, tight, fingers playing me, even in dream, and when they're not...i laugh.
I'm evil, and alone, and I don't mind. I'll twist you, and use you, and hope to destroy you. Then I'll walk away, and I walk away.
Now I am the rapist, who is killing the gender. What joy I find in the tortured souls, who seek the unforgiving fullfillment of yesterdays fun.
Nestles in the bosom, of some unknown babe, they all die, frozen in their searches, the perfection of porn never came, and the children laugh.
Enthusiasm passes, as time tick-tocks away. The wrinkles invade the faces of youth, scorned by the dream never lived. Where did it all go? I'm evil, and alone, and I don't mind.
Ruptured by the second place finish, in the game we all played; unfairly. Sleeping next to them, hands held, dentures beside the bed.
