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#love and consumption poems
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fertile decay
i want her to consume me, as if im made for her taste her teeth to my skin, chewing tender flesh as if i am a meal for her; or a dog, or a lamb, or going to the slaughter of her desire, i go, so willing and wanting, chest rising and falling the cusp of my bones to her starving lips, i obey every word, a sacrifice to a patient god bleeding all so well so - she calls me her good girl and i am weeping with the ecstasy of my own death as her hands remould my flower-burdened ribcage and mycorrhizal nerves my decay, oh-so fertile for her.
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starlesstuff · 5 months
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l am hungry I have been hungry I was born hungry What do I need?
Mitski
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vulpinae · 9 months
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the hungers of hadewijch and eckhart - donald f. duclow stigmata: escaping texts - hélène cixous you are in a hotel room -  joan tierney the notebooks of malte laurids brigge - rainer maria rilke great expectations - kathy acker hot-hand fallacy - jasmine gibson erotism: death and sensuality - georges bataille  cain - josé saramago love in the time of monsters - emily palermo  a curious night for a double eclipse -  j. karl bogartte.
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lamentofspring · 7 months
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haley nichole green, we are goodness to me
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whimsy-wallfish · 6 months
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looking for writeblr + poemblr blogs to follow !!
Hello hello I'm looking for some DARK N FUCKED UP N EVIL blogs to follow!!
if you write any of the following let me know please !
fun or poetic prose! idk if ur shit is over the top and dramatic I will EAT IT UP
vampires I'm such a vampire enthusiast
like angel/demon dynamics and christian imagery
LOVE AS CONSUMPTION
honestly if you write like kinky power dynamic smut cause there's a few scenes in my upcoming novel and I need word inspo
rot n decay
I WILL MARRY YOU /P if you write themes of mental illness, specifically addiction,, specifically specifically sh addiction
generally dark themes
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wannab-urs · 7 months
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fuck it we’re posting poetry
(or, gin is drunk)
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urtwilightgf · 5 months
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cannibalism as a metaphor for love and devotion
cannibalism as a metaphor for love and devotion is such an interesting literacy device to me. the idea that you're so obsessed that you want them to consume you fully. the fact it such a disgusting and disturbing metaphor shows how obsession and being desperately in love with someone breaks you down fully. into bite sized pieces. ready to be consumed.
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jerseryjers · 5 months
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Cut my body into pieces, peel my skin and toss out my core.
Take only the best parts of me, leave behind the hard to swallow. 
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september-poetry · 22 days
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touch
do we have to touch?
are your words enough?
i feel my sense of self burning up
warmth ripples through my veins
under my skin
can you see it?
bubbling over
dripping down my throat
blood mixed with fire
hear me choke
liquid fills me up
im drowning
how do you breathe through desire?
how can you stand it?
do you feel it?
love pooling at your collarbones?
seeping into your bones?
stripping down bare
exposed
will you hold my organs in your hands
the crook of your neck a pillow
in the bed of my eternal sleep
will you disembowel my body
my heart in a box under your floorboards
do you hear me beating?
would you keep me close?
use me as compost for your next lover
ill let you feed on what's left of me
its all-consuming
the want
the need
the craving
if you swallow me down
then at least i have been held one last time
23 / 04 / 24
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Loving you is not enough,
I need you to devour me.
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starlesstuff · 5 months
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eat me, chew me and swallow me
i want you to peel off my skin, just take it off and eat me, feel how you sink your sharp fangs into me signing my death with your teeth
take the time to appreciate how you detach my flesh with such delicacy yet aggressiveness and desperately passion, thirsty for blood, thirsty for me…
isn’t it beautiful?
your stomach is full of me just as your heart is filled with love, this desire is ineffable but so pure and real
not all love is gentle, sometimes it’s gritty, sharp and possessive, sometimes it’s not supposed to be careful or soft at all, sometimes it’s painful yet pleasing and that’s how my love for you feels in this instant.
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vulpinae · 8 months
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I. I couldn't find the source, if you know please let me know.
II. Frida Kahlo
III. Gleipnir - Walton Ford, 2012
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esoteric-dyke · 4 months
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and i am cracking
open your ribs and
i am placing my hands inside
you
and suddenly it
is all fingers and
gore and the sweet and
sickening squelch of your organs
between my hands
and i am eating
you are being eaten and
is this it? is this
what it is? the history of
art painted in red
across my chest pressed to
the hollow of yours ?
is it all you and
me
and the smooth of
your blood down my throat and the
drip on my collarbones? and i
am not knowing and not caring
and mostly i am eating
eating eating
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whimsy-wallfish · 6 months
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I guess im kinda brainstorming character dynamics for this storyy. very early brainstorming, there's no plot or anything yet but I'm putting inspo and info under #sheepdog story
text for screenreaders below cut -
the lamb’s desire
— 11.17.23
i, a lamb
overcome with a frivolous desire -
a desparete desire 
to feel my flesh 
between the wolf’s yellowed teeth.
oh wont you tear me apart,
ill cry out in pleasure.
oh wont you let me become part of
something greater than myself.
the sheepdog tries so hard 
to prevent my pain-crazed nature
- doesnt he see if different from the flock
  doesnt he know im meant to stray.
the sheepdog flatters me,
though i know he will never
sink his fangs into my flesh
as the wolf has sworn.
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understarslikeyours · 3 months
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what if we grow too close?
what if i love you too much and i forget we are not of the same flesh?
that one day you will pry yourself from my skin and walk away
as if my body doesnt breath your air
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depraved-raven · 2 months
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“i wanted her bones, her blood, her tissues, the sinews that bound her together. i would have held her to me though time had stripped away the tones and textures of her skin. i could have held her for a thousand years until the skeleton itself rubbed away to dust. what are you that makes me feel thus? who are you for whom time has no meaning?
in the heat of her hands i thought, this is the campfire that mocks the sun. this place will warm me, feed me and care for me. i will hold on to this pulse against other rhythms. the world will come and go in the tide of a day but here is her hand with my future in its palm.”
— jeanette winterson, written on the body
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