Why must you kill me?
   I told you I like dirty sex.

I’ll keep it filthy.
   Regardless you can’t fill my void.

Let me go you’ll see.
   Just shut up, I can’t take the noise.

        I’ve had all the crazy nymphos I could want.
       But nothing is like the deceased.
       The dead will give you all you want.
       They don’t mind when you make them bleed.

            Bodies in the cellar and basement start to stink.
           When you make love to the dead, of the smells you don’t think.
           When in love throes of the perished, the rest disappears. 
           If you want to keep breathing, better not to come near.

I’ll let you take me.
   I told you that I just don’t rape.

Then stop, don’t take me.
   The dead don’t feel pain, and no shame.

Just please let me be.
   I can’t, pervasive urge can’t be tamed.

        Just one more claim I need to stake.
       Need stimulation before I am gone.
       This death will give me all I need.
       Have sex and then watch myself bleed.

You let me take you.
   The complacency is taking my breath.

So fucking filthy.
   My mind spiralling in ecstasy.

Now after you stabbed me..
   As I’m cumming I can feel my life go.

​

© Steven Launstein 2016