a toast to being a cunt in love

Love is a cunt alright. Love is a gaping wound that can never heal. Love is the place where the ecstacy of birth meets unbridled pain. A place where death and beauty and violent lust are wrapped in soft fingers, and dreams spring forth with all their aching fragility. Where we embrace the cold pain of who we are and die within it, where we punish the other for what we hate about ourselves. Fuck love, just give me my sanity, please, I beg you. Laughter builds and swells as madness takes over. Can I end these quasi-deaths? I’m sobbing and laughing and bleeding in the chattering cold, dreaming spires of regret entwined with sublime beauty and stained by hate. Evening song obliterated by the nuclear effigy of darkness unspoken, glaring images of dirty longing thrust into me. I’m powerless.... things my mother never told me 1) that beauty and pain are as one – go deal with it. 2) that love and lust are fucking dangerous, don’t go there kid while you still gotta chance! Words half-formed; what words cannot convey, that is everything, what can I convey to you with my pathetic sense of who I am, give me your sweet, sweet tenderness, please. All i can do is ask, then roll over into sleep saturated with fire. Guts churning in my masturbatory fantasies of everything that has gone to waste. I will try and come to my senses, but these are just words and really I know I’m fucked before I even begin. Aaah, what fun eh? :) Here’s to being cunted over like a bitch in this game of life....all present raise your glasses!