Confessions Of A Romantic Sadist

zebra black

Drawing Blood
Jan 31, 2020
Lady Killer Marquis de Sade

Truth titillates the imagination far less than fiction.
Marquis de Sade
I'm a lady killer
sending her through
the mirror of life
like a kissing syringe
in a masturbating blood ritual
with a long waiting list

eagerly she presents
instruments of dispatch
as she wanders into my mind
like a drugged eye ball
excited to be comforted by death

im making her wait
not meaning to be rude
stranded momentarily
with so much
filing, faxing, emailing, and calling
in this cathedral of the taboo
as i play with myself
fascinated by a soap opera suicide

ready to lose her self
in dizzying emancipation
from a wrapped throat
in sparkling battery cables
and a tormented red mouth

tear glazed
for the apocalypse of her depraved lust
she caresses boa constrictor extremities
that turn her brain to froth
and lips numb

stroking her hair
she dampens at the sight
of rust tarnished daggers
and a black fanged skull
enticing swinging hips
and open legs

in the mood to bleed
a tantalizing appetite wetter
nipple hors d'oeuvre served up
like a crimson scar through water

she whispers
how wet you make me
a sponge drenched moon
while we have another coffee
and tippy toe leg show
flaunting her nails
painted a different color
like xylophone chromes

she dildo-ishly fingers
the inside of her mouth
and between moistened thighs
while i finish the therapy reports
of blow by blow depravities

after watching
Dark Corners Crazy Bitch Films
she says
"Stupid girl.
The moment the ziptie would tighten around my neck
i would take my shirt and panties off
and go masturbate
in front of a mirror
so i can enjoy the final moments"

i dress her
in a fashionista silver skeleton bra
stained panties
silk stockings
and the body bag
she so lovingly sewed together
between finger fucks
as if having already climbed inside

let me know your favorite room
"bathrooms are hot"

head first please
and leave my ass out to be admired
for a state funeral gang bang

she was enveloped
a blood stained fuck dummy
in reverie
with a vacant grace,
and red oozy kisses
for a mob of cocks
at the Gates of Sodom

begging for savage death rites
knowing how pretty her pose
with outstretched toes
on a black palanquin
she floats on tropical hemic Vaseline
do you like me
like this
like that
butt up banana split
with a blood cherry yoni
and a spoon of gruyere
lick butter

look into my peepers
kiss me tenderly
lose control of your
wet viscous
wiping saliva tongue

then i perforate
the rectum
pierce the clit
open the intestine
she quivers
and spreads
like Peking duck

ransacking the brain
editing the history
from grave to spirt box
she thundered like the burning bush
and cummed glowing roses

your sick disgusting orgasms
are a sacrifice

zebra black

Drawing Blood
Jan 31, 2020

If you insist <3 Okay do it NOW.!!!! cuc cu cu cu cu cu cu cu coooo wow boing boing boing
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zebra black

Drawing Blood
Jan 31, 2020
My Sylvia Thing

just because your dead
doesnt mean we aren't dating anymore
like you would have dated me
dead or alive
yet i am haunted

you humming
so we must have chemistry
or am i interminably obsessed
like a ghostly house

your poems
had there way with me
like a strip tease
and soft slipping fingers squeezing
making little red veins hemorrhage
like a thick scum intravenous drip
rumbling down a phantom cock

warm breath
on the lay away plan
infernal lips
suck face
a lit match
immortal burning
holes in my stomach

bits of my heart like skin flaps
nailed to a wooden plank
by the tormented photograph of you
tender aged thirty year old
with your head in the oven
languishing gracefully

your generosity in death
a carnival ride of fascination
like a dropped bird

nerved up cat
to tormented to pet
to love
to be well
to smile
to calm
better hors d’oeuvres of rat poison

i like to think
you where inviting me
like a necrophiliac
to love your slender corpse

please baby one more verse
for the thin air road
your poem
a dark crime
behind the big white door
your so pretty in penny loafers
bare legs dangling
a gassed ass
a moveless flower
head in ovens grave
corridor of rabies
finally vacant
honking at my face for a last kiss
to brush my wet mouth
smooth against your goddess buttocks

smudge face
sunken skin
and that stupid stare
like a half filled ashtray
tongue out and cunty fingers

"dead ball gods"
your weight no longer measured in grief

you turned the gas up
deep breaths now darling
common you can do it
so steep baby
feel the caress

i was born to late
to die with you
to save you
pretty nymph in a downward spiral
ravens clutch

still crying,
horney for you
and your black light
to busy being dead
to give a shit

i'm fixated on your suicide pose
beauty and horror tangled lovers

here and gone

here and gone
almost in the same split second

i'm obsessed, obsessively obsessive
for what could never be
and is;
am i not your fan,
your creep

if I pulled you from the oven
saving you for your rattled life
no doubt, you'd be all pissy at me
your magic rescue voodoo hero
your straight jacket of love
keeping you alive
cavalcade of dead girl faces
you would have hated me for that

your dead now
and i'm left here reading your poems
telling you softly
they are the best poems ever
and making believe
you love me


Epilogue: Ann Rice
"The longer they're dead
the deader they get"

zebra black

Drawing Blood
Jan 31, 2020
Red Ice

The write was written
red ice
twice bitten
his soul a black clot

a faucet for a neck
she fell in a crepuscular fold
odor of tincture fuckubus
red mouth
a snarling kiss
a hot hiss chariot
a black bite

her womb spread wide
for a tongue that didn't end
nail polished nipples
like torn cherries
soft gauze tourniquet
a slow yield
milk petals and rivulets
a ghastly confection
leaning over like a spilled pot

her gullet a metropolis of jewels
forced throat bound
on a black cross
she sailed on a magic carpet
like a vampires fizz cocktail
a red ice float
of starvation
his mind a dead sky
a pageant of coiled clouds

he held her down
she levitated

they were in love


zebra black

Drawing Blood
Jan 31, 2020

Why does that excite me; but even more importantly why does it excite her?
Bang Bang

zebra black

Drawing Blood
Jan 31, 2020
Asshole...The Poem

Asshole...The Poem

she moves her mouth
wet lip chatter and eating
it makes me think
of her pinkish vagina lips
and her tender warm cheeked rectum
urethral delicate opening
the anus eye
her pipsqueak fig staring

a dark vulnerable miasma
it is the shape of gods 3rd eye

a material correspondence
to the heavens
not the sky that whistles through canyons
but the astral worlds of angelic's
a thanksgiving feast
of rebuked back door paradise
a glistening hemic muscle
vomiting stormy air
for my throbbing nightingale protuberance.

as it swells imperious balls
and raptures tight waving spasm's
from long smooth canoe strokes
squirting succotash and tadpoles
into her velvet manic stench
banana booth
chapel of anus

and greedy ache
smothers gloriously
this melodic snake
in her one eyed doll head

she smiles
i need it in the ass

and i asked
as it winked a drivel

dark floret
do you love me?

OMG she has 2 assholes mmmmmmmm