robot porn's blog: "muse."

would you… elaborate, sir, and let me put it on display? (i’ve been dying to taste you) aching to smell the stench of your salt. dreaming of touching you… fantasizing of your salivating mess of lust for me. you’re killing me here, you know… with dark eyes and light skin… a dream of which i know nothing, but feel everything. everything. gnihtyreve. tonight smells of the shore but not of the things you bring to me. wrapped up in me like a blanket and i keep you tied in a knot. a loose chokehold really. concede to me, for i know it’s what you’d like. i can’t bear another week of this foul torture. eyes between only lines as i taunt from a twenty hour arms length. an arms length… that’s what it is, correct? a stretch? you’re a destination. “just hang in there” “you’ll see” “it’ll be worth it” “things will work out” “you’re my reason” that’s just it darling. you’re my reason. so i’ll shout it to you, but with less force this time. sometimes in the form of a whisper. sometimes just a brush against that thickness of your neck. all of the time… an incomplete thought. when you feel that… it’s me. I am running in circLes here, fOrced to belieVe that i’m in charge when wE both know that’s only a façade. a delicately planned falsetto of sorts, and we know that You will be the one to ruin me. yOu will be the stalker in the night. shoot me up with your drug when i’m least sUspecting it. what would you like? SIR? fuck It. let’s go. that was the poiNt of this madness right? that’s what you were waiting for? i’m going to fall back into this dreAm state. you know the one. the echo of your skin and the touch oF your voice… on mine… as we fuck with words On a couch in a shitty apartment where content is the worst way of descRibing the feeling we both have. “pass mE the soda can sweetheart” (so i may use the tin to cut out your heart and marinate it in juices you’ve been dying to feed upon) you Violate me so completely, boy. and i’ll quiver at the thought of your tonguE while you Remain staring with those innocent eyes. innocent enough to make a nun want to fucK you in public, but no, that’s my job. take my hand and follow me Into the discarded remnaNts of this worlD. tO dance upon the Flesh of his love for me. we’ll make it a ritual… and hold ceremonies with candle Wax. with pictures of them frAmed so neatlY on the walls. for now i’ll get back to my life. tomorrow is one step closer. closer to… closer to.

the world is crashing down around me like it often does. but this time it’s going to be alright. i’ve decided to keep you by my side in this epic battle called life. you in all your glory, me with all my wrath… and them with nothing. darling, could you do me a favor and lace my combat boots? this time it’s full speed ahead. don’t bother engaging the shields… they are unnecessary. there’s not a single nuke that could touch me with you as my sidekick. -i’m- coming out -on top-. -we- are coming out on top. and this city is going down. i’ll burn the anger at the stake as you take out the petty. buy a round of maniacal laughter on me. because this one… is. for. you.

i’m holding you closer now than i was before. if only it were in a physical sense. i imagine it everyday you know… living… breathing… dreaming. i wake up and remember that my sheets aren’t yellow at all. but a dark burgundy color instead. the color of my insides… the color of you and i. but it’s not what i want. what do i want? i want clocks on the wall set halfway in between you and i. mine a half hour behind… yours a half hour ahead. that way we meet in the middle. i’ll be late for everything, but that’s no matter because i already am. you’ll be early. premature, but does that bother you? i want a merle pup named locke. with pouting eyes and floppy ears. a tail wagging whenever i enter the house because he knows that i am home. that you are home. that we… are … -home-. jack is another story. he’s lazy. i want a case of green juice in the fridge at all times. and green olives. i want two tv sets. one next to the other. one ours, the other ours, as well. systems will be in the middle. and there will be a big comfy couch about ten feet away. i’ll harass you as you battle and you’ll annoy me while i fight… but it will all end with a kiss. that’s what makes it worth everything. i want a never ending pack of cigarettes on the coffee table in the living room. and when i grab one and say meet me in the backyard in less than five when it’s darker than a prison cell in the basement of the jailhouse out there you’ll know that if you take forty seven large strides forward…. and seventeen small steps to the left… you’ll find me by that tree waiting to be ravaged. my arms will already be above my head but when you come out i’ll wrap them around you. you’ll only let me hold on for about thirty seconds before pinning me to the tree and taking full advantage. of what’s yours. whats… ours. what is ours?

there’s a sunset off to the left that i seem to be missing. but one day i’ll get there. i have a feeling on that day that the sun won’t set at all… will it? the blinding lights of new york city are too nauseating darling… i’m feeling rather incomplete without wide open by my side. there’s a light above my head and it’s dangling wildly. yet, for some reason it won’t tell me what to do. i hear it whispering violently over and over… but it’s speaking a language of which the world hasn’t learned… yet. it’s the language of you and i. the language of the master and his priestess. a language i can’t comprehend. it’s a language of two parts… of me… and for you. until the two parts are together not even i can distinguish i love you from mathematical nonsense. close your eyes girl… think harder. fuck me. it’s all over now… and the ash is beginning to rest. at our feet. on our feet. to do with nothing and everything at once. the cries they let out sounded like a sweet lullaby to my drunken ears. drunk on the taste of my punishments. the ones you administered. while i cried out for more. while i cried out for you. i’m crying. out. for you. can you hear me?

something. i’m supposed to start out with something, right? although, my something seems like nothing… and my nothing seems like everything. at least at the moment it does. you can be my nothing… or you can be my everything. which would you rather? and would you rather at all? because i’d rather you did. but that’s just my opinion and opinions rarely matter. sweetheart, darling, i think i’m falling. i’m falling hard and i’m not sure where the end of the tunnel is. or the yellow brick road for that matter. but I think we have already established the fact that matters aren’t matters at all. just opinions. and those don’t matter. would you rather? would it rather? that definitely doesn’t matter… and matter is what matter is. right? sure. let’s put it this way sir, it’s like lipstick. no, it’s not like lipstick it all. it’s glorious i do believe… and red in all it’s worth. but… it’s well… it’s not what I was going for. so we try and explain again. this time… with a little more worth. worth… like a gunshot wound. but not in the head. a very poorly aimed gunshot wound. except that the sniper was apparently too good to be bad. but bad is what it comes down to. so i’m standing there like usual. at a train station somewhere… you know the place. i took you there once before, if you paid attention at all… did you pay attention? once again, not the matter… just the incentive. yes. that’s what. back to the train station? or was it a subway. we’ll pretend for a second that it was a train station… out in the open for all to see… there are planes flying high above our heads now. much higher than anything, let alone something. and god forbid nothing. wait… where was i again? well… you know. ok, let’s get to the point. the point is that the bullet ends its not so well thought out flight in the back of my kneecap. yup. that’s exactly how the story went. and i tried to compare it to lipstick. what on earth was i thinking?

it's like waking in the morning to the sickly sweet smell of flowers overcoming my senses. almost too sweet. teasing me. toying with me. i'm feeling ever so yellow today... and when i open my eyes i know that the bombus ternarius kept their promise, to trace me in pollen. protect me with the after effects of their neverending chore. the statues are all lined up now. like little soldiers with their broken limbs and missing parts. one by one standing... staring. some with too much shading in the wrong places... their faces blackened and nothing but bright eyes and crooked smiles. to them i am the sun when they beg for cold, and the moon on a crisp winter night. you don't understand what you do to me, sir. and sometimes i wonder if you even care. your words bite into me like no lust filled mouth has ever done. you leave me gasping for air... ready to explode into a mess of strawberry flavored blood. i think you should get away... start driving to clean up the mess. the mess which you were obviously the finish of. left? no. right... right seems to be the absolute. right? correct. and so i sit... and i write. and i wait. wait... wait... while you torment me with every word you say. i'm beyond lusting now, it's gotten to the point of addiction. heroes on heroin... gallivanting around flaunting their invincibility. heavy. so heavy. and the time is ticking away. good word placement, don't you think? (k)no(w) you don't. i'm on a roll here sir. and entirely unmoved by the pace. but this time i'm going down. down. down. down. that's when i see her hand... she reaches out and looks at me with that horridly disfigured yet attractive face and i decide to take the plunge. into the depths of what i am terrified of. them with their ugly faces and teeth. cutting into me with those wretched things. worse than the knife i keep by my side in my house. in your head. on the couch. with the flowers on the coffee table. flowers? we're back to those again i see. and it seems they've given me a terrible headache. or was that just you? i don't remember giving you a key. i think we should call the authorities. let them know what you've been doing so the white doesn't take me out of here. it's not my time... y e t did i say "we"? i was sure i said "me." as "she" is the only creature who ever mattered much. summer vacation never looked so good as it does on your lips ma'am. i see you've got plans. get back to the games. aren't there lives you're supposed to be ruining? the boys and girls should be running. end