Beauty is in the eye of the beholder

and, oh! How beautiful thee 

must glisten in the eyes of all!

and of mine own,

this troubled mind finds utmost tranquility.

a glistering ray of sun

a soft whisper of natures' pure and radiant voice

has naught the least bit comparison,

for comparison is needed, not. 

Shakespearean words read not thy kind demeanor.

Nor loon or lark have such a beauteous voice.

Melody and harmony; both dissonance in

the presence of one so fair,

yea, indeed one so fair

as there is no compare!

and so radiant is thy body

thy mind

thy soul

such flamboyant flair,

that none but God above

can thee compare.

im so tired of writers

who write about the boring men

that fall in love with beautiful women

the trope of the manic pixie dream girl

isnt just an over-done plot line

its an easy way to strip power from amazing, interesting women

let us exist in a vacumn

let us dance in the ran and write our bad poetry

let us exist without the love of a man

or i swear to god ill cut your dick off

I don't remember grabbing the knife from the kitchen drawer. I just remember hearing whimpering coming from Kayla's room, and seeing his figure looming over her, his hand creeping under her blankets, and then rage. Hot, trembling, blinding rage. Not her. Not like me.

It happened in mere minutes. I caught a glimpse of Kayla's face, twisted with dread and fear like mine had been so many times before. Then something took over me. I wasn't myself anymore, just bloodlust and adrenaline.

The next thing I saw was my own white-knuckled fist plunging the knife into his back. He screamed. I screamed. Tears clouded my vision as I yanked the knife out and drove it into his shoulder, then the side of his neck, my heart pounding so loudly in my ears that I could barely hear his screams.

Then, it was over.

He lay slumped over on Kayla's bed, a crack of light from the open door falling on his still figure and the pool of crimson spreading rapidly beneath him. Kayla cowered in the corner, weeping.

The room began to spin around me and I dropped to my knees. I looked down at my hands in disbelief, unsure whether they were the same hands that had just taken my father's life.

He'd stolen my innocence and stained my childhood, yes, but did I really just kill him? Had I just taken a man's life? What would happen to me? To Kayla?

I felt hot and sick and my hands couldn't stop shaking, but the smallest hint of a smile crept upon my lips despite myself.

He couldn't hurt us anymore. Never again.

I licked the congealed trail of sweat between her alabaster breasts but couldn’t feel a response coursing through her sensual body. I flicked my tongue in little caresses as I traveled further down the center of her being until I tasted the nectar from her innermost core. Still she did not move. I grazed her inner thighs with my fingertips trying to arouse her.

I moved upward toward the lovely silken skin of her face and kissed her full mouth and pressed my tongue inside, devouring her very essence. She did not kiss back. I raised my head and notice that the sweat between her mounded bosom was no longer trickling downward and was tinged with little pink flecks. I tasted the moisture there, finding it to be salty, almost metallic, with traces of copper or iron.

Then I remembered! I was so angry and completely out of my mind when she told me she was leaving me. Flashes of red had obliterated my vision, as I thrust my knife over and over again into her soft throat. I couldn’t stop! I couldn’t ever be without her and I couldn’t share her with another man. She must be mine forever! I stabbed her until she ceased breathing. And I realized that I no longer had existence either. My heart and soul were gone. What had I done?

#fiction #murder #horror #RedFlashes #erotica