Love Rape Suicide

I don't know when it happens. Thoughts of sex and suicide. A sermon on appeal delivered to wet ears and raw eyes. Open to gentle nudges, finger poking and wet massages. A betrayal that starts with household friendly words; ugly, stupid, fat, hoe, nigger, fag, no, yes-tucking you in with a kiss goodnight. Long after we are supposed to be asleep. Giving advice that sticks to bones starved for a comforting, demanding love.

It seems strange until you think about another person’s pleasure, like the new body you want to impress. So, you pregame with Hennessy, a pull of the weed, and masturbate in the shower to beat the champion of excitement and leave with the title of- GOOD FUCK.

Later, when your children overhear you being called a "mother fucker",

you say, " yup that's how I got kids, I just wish they weren’t from you."

Now the kids have a live diary they don't have to sneak read. Playing scenes of revenge, hoping their end will teach loves lesson.