Ginger Sunset Expired

Sometimes I don't want sex and violence together. Sometimes I just want violence.

A psychological need? A sexual one?

I can only laugh with myself about the straight men who crush on me, thinking I don't want them, that I'm withholding sex from them. If they only knew the type of ache I feel. If their desire stretches over rivers, mine stretches oceans. The sharp and unbearable beauty of their skin, their faces, the pale and twisted roads I could wander over their bodies. Sometimes I feel like an enormous wave, held in place and shivering.

I, asexual white girl. I, delirious boy, who could worship your feet for hours. Would suck your cock, tongue your nipples, anything for the pleasure of feeling your hands defining my body, for the feel of the spread of my wings.