Pornography Kills (the Mind)
CranMalReign
Posts: 1,928
In case you don't pick up on this, some of the words are inspired by Guns N' Roses and Tori Amos. 
~~~
Pornography Kills (the Mind)
February 26, 2002
Waiting for the phone to ring
Waiting for one of them
To call him up
hold his hand
tell him she needs him
wants him
knows him
hates him
tastes him
loathes him
loves him
remembers him
fucks him in her dreams
in the soul
in the hole
that not one of them can fill
but all of them try
Who's calling?
Who cares
what she has to say?
As long as it's poignant
or grateful
or meaningless drivel like everything else these days
She wants to see him again, she said
She misses him
Who cares?
They all miss him
Whenever he's not around
He's lucky that way.
She cried when he turned her down
or spit
and grinned til her cheeks split
like a cheshire cat on speed
when he told her
"I think I'll drop by this weekend"
She heaved and collapsed beneath him
like a perculating mud bath
of sexual plate tectonics
grinding pelvises and tongues and minds and pain
into the majestic Andes of misguided climax
Jagged, frozen peaks
born of molten
human
need
Life so violent
is human nature
?
Tori sings the ballad of his heart gone...
sad
Feminine leanings
He loves women who love him back
Lewd regurgitations of darkened secret cracks
in the mold
Peeking into the secrets
even he doesn't know
Emotional pornography
His words
spilling forth from inside his molted locust shell
are his smut
When digital displays of stuffed cunts
and a rapid fire sub media blitz
of cocks in mouths
and fifteen naked bodies in a knot of wicked, stinking flesh
fail to quiet the screams
Verbal masturbation
He wonders...
Fingers drift across cold steel,
sticky in sweat...
if they'll miss him
when he's gone
Jots this down
With a scribble and a plea
Who's calling?
Who cares?
They all love him.
So many seem so lonely
With no one left to cry to
Waiting for the phone to ring
Lipstick on his
neck and shoulder
Waiting for the phone to ring
Beads on his brow
Dick in his hand
Visions of her
racing through his broken mind
at the speed of
cum
on
her face
Words carved into crumpled sheets and his arm
Looking for the last-minute angel
That he stopped believing in
a long time ago
Carving
Page after page
chaffing his rigidity raw
When the ear-splitting silence shatters
bringing him down from the border
between ecstacy
and purgery
The phone rings
Who's calling?
Who cares?
So long as she hears
That sexy
Shiney
Steel gun in his hand
go
off
with his dick in the other
"Hello?"
tears
beating
shaking
pulling
"I'm so glad you called"
~~~
Pornography Kills (the Mind)
February 26, 2002
Waiting for the phone to ring
Waiting for one of them
To call him up
hold his hand
tell him she needs him
wants him
knows him
hates him
tastes him
loathes him
loves him
remembers him
fucks him in her dreams
in the soul
in the hole
that not one of them can fill
but all of them try
Who's calling?
Who cares
what she has to say?
As long as it's poignant
or grateful
or meaningless drivel like everything else these days
She wants to see him again, she said
She misses him
Who cares?
They all miss him
Whenever he's not around
He's lucky that way.
She cried when he turned her down
or spit
and grinned til her cheeks split
like a cheshire cat on speed
when he told her
"I think I'll drop by this weekend"
She heaved and collapsed beneath him
like a perculating mud bath
of sexual plate tectonics
grinding pelvises and tongues and minds and pain
into the majestic Andes of misguided climax
Jagged, frozen peaks
born of molten
human
need
Life so violent
is human nature
?
Tori sings the ballad of his heart gone...
sad
Feminine leanings
He loves women who love him back
Lewd regurgitations of darkened secret cracks
in the mold
Peeking into the secrets
even he doesn't know
Emotional pornography
His words
spilling forth from inside his molted locust shell
are his smut
When digital displays of stuffed cunts
and a rapid fire sub media blitz
of cocks in mouths
and fifteen naked bodies in a knot of wicked, stinking flesh
fail to quiet the screams
Verbal masturbation
He wonders...
Fingers drift across cold steel,
sticky in sweat...
if they'll miss him
when he's gone
Jots this down
With a scribble and a plea
Who's calling?
Who cares?
They all love him.
So many seem so lonely
With no one left to cry to
Waiting for the phone to ring
Lipstick on his
neck and shoulder
Waiting for the phone to ring
Beads on his brow
Dick in his hand
Visions of her
racing through his broken mind
at the speed of
cum
on
her face
Words carved into crumpled sheets and his arm
Looking for the last-minute angel
That he stopped believing in
a long time ago
Carving
Page after page
chaffing his rigidity raw
When the ear-splitting silence shatters
bringing him down from the border
between ecstacy
and purgery
The phone rings
Who's calling?
Who cares?
So long as she hears
That sexy
Shiney
Steel gun in his hand
go
off
with his dick in the other
"Hello?"
tears
beating
shaking
pulling
"I'm so glad you called"
- 98 Pgh
- 00 Pgh
- 03 Pgh|Philly|PSU|Camden 1+2|Hershey
- 04 Boston 1|Reading
- 05 Philly
- 06 Camden 1+2|Pgh
- 08 Camden 1+2|Hartford|Mansfield 2
- 09 Philly 1 [EV]|Toronto|Spectrum 1-4
- 10 Cleveland|Buffalo
- 11 Philly [EV]|PJ20
- 12 Philly
- 13 London|Pgh|Buff|Philly 1+2|Balt
- 14 Cincy|StL
- 16 Philly 1+2|Philly 2 [TotD]
- 18 Boston 1+2
Post edited by Unknown User on
0
Comments
http://www.myspace.com/alotalotbetweenus
hope you dont mind.....
naked
on the bed
shivering in the darkness
as wave after wave of self doubt
crashes into her consiousness
raping her mind
violating her sanity
as the mind fuck continues
she finally reaches climax
from this mental masturbation
screaming out in anguish
as the waves break
into her reality
tears flow unabated
burning hot on her face
she remembers a different time
a better day
when she stepped off the bus
saw the city for the first time
gazed at the lights
with wide eyes
filled with youthful wonder
her thoughts made love
with ideas of fame and fortune
bitch slapped
by the city she adored
with a brutal fury
her innocence shattered
popping her cherry
with its cruelity
now shes in the underground
lying in a cum soaked bed
as a voice yells cut
one step above
a street whore
the game is the same
pimping her pussy
never seeing the rewards
the shame is the same
feeling no love
as she takes him in
naked
looking in a mirror
with bloodshot eyes
she feels the fluffer
stroking her mental member
priming it to violate
whats left of her pride
looking in the mirror
the tears leak out
another casuality
of sex in the city
I like porn, myself.
Good job CranMalReign & the unseen!
"Give me, your dirty love!"