#ches chatter

[specter-shire]

Most intimate is having fought with another for so long one has memorized their dearest foe's every calculated move, every disdainful look, every biting retort to the point of faultless prediction.

Like how a lover memorizes flesh and scent. Touch and taste.

[specter-shire]

“A kiss is the beginning of cannibalism.”

Forget a kiss.

The mere brush of fingers, an engrossing conversation, a laugh, a look is the beginning of cannibalism.

[specter-shire]

So this is my punishment.

Four infuriatingly restrictive limbs, bones destined to crack, blood easy to spill, the thumping thing, the breathing things, and a big heavy head that can't seem to shut up.

All packaged nice and neat in a hungry, horny, sweaty sack of sobbing-shitting-pissing flesh.

WOO! I AM LOVING THIS!

[specter-shire]

Writing is the closest I have ever gotten to godhood.

The author and his pen from which the divine ink of creation flows.

This is my story. My eternal Wonderland.

My Heaven, my Hell, my Earth.

My solar system and I, the sun.

I can do whatever I want, say whatever I want, make whatever I want.

And nobody can change a damn thing.

[specter-shire]

Currently trying to escape my arranged marriage with Writer's Block.

[specter-shire]

Future Careers:

-Unreliable narrator

-Eldritch abomination

-Gold digger

-Cult leader

-Front desk receptionist

[specter-shire]

Oh to burnout like a star.

Blown to bits.

My final moments spent in cataclysmic splendor.

My remnants scattered about the vast, ebony expanse.

A ravenous vortex left in my place.

... Wait.

[specter-shire]

"My love language is gift-giving!" I exclaim, fingers expertly forging a friendship bracelet, while plotting to use the ensnaring device to brand their form with my irreversible mark.