#jackoffvalentine

[nyetmonkey]

i groan as your fingers burrow deeper inside me

and you make a scooping motion and slowly dig them out, before pressing it to your lips

tastes good

you say

i whimper in response

im lying in front of you, not ready for maggots, but torn apart and bleeding

you taste me then devour me

piece by piece until

my insides are out

my heart in your mouth

you shovel more from my stomach into yours

and im proud to give

in

eat

i say

eat

eat

[nyetmonkey]

As a wound spurts blood when pressed,

as a cut spurts pus when squeezed,

as a man cries out when questioned enough,

as liquid shoots out through the vein when injected,

so too, so naturally,

will my mind release poetry when I think of you.

[nyetmonkey]

Doodles of my OCs

One like and I’ll draw them twerking oiled up lubricated naked ass phat one hand on the wall and blowing a kiss at the viewer with big kissy lips and winking and blushing in cat ears and with a cat tail and a maid outfit and laughing and giggling and overstimulated

[nyetmonkey]

“A deer. A few weeks ago it started crawling into my head, and now it’s sneaking up on me in my dreams. It’s always the exact same thing; a deer in the snow, all gangly and frostbitten, but it’s still standing. It’s standing like a human being. Not like a deer would stand, but tall and straight.

And, urh, it keeps looking at me. That’s the first thing I remember when I wake up, then the rest of it comes. These death-like eyes, then I remember how pale it is, and how the pattern always changes when I stare too long. I can’t not look.”

Claurine paused. She tossed Matty a bone, which he gratefully accepted,

“And then I remembered exactly where I’d seen that look before. I killed a big ol’ deer mother a while back, just when the snow was starting to thaw. It was the first time I’d killed a deer, and a big one like that— a coues one, I think. But I couldn’t even give myself the pride of victory because she was such an easy target anyway. She was dying. Both of them were. They were lying together in the snow, and I got close enough to smell the rot on her.

It was.. disgusting. God, it stunk.

I finished the job even though I can still remember how shakey my hands were. I remember how the baby panicked and tried to stand, like.. like it was going to defend his mom or something. Those crazy eyes of it’s started darting around and then it fell back. Then it just made strange noises at me, but i didn’t do anything about it. I left it to die. I was just too.. scared to shoot at it.

Before I walked away I made the mistake of looking at it one last time. It was just quietly staring at me..”

“And now you think you’re being haunted by it?” Anton smiled and rested himself against his elbows, feeling slightly amused by Claurine’s recollection.

She waved her hand dismissively “Oh no. Not in that sense. But those eyes, Ant..”

“So it’s not the eyes of the men you’ve killed, or the countless birds and ducks and cows we’ve shot at.” Anton smiled, “No. A baby deer is what gets you.”

“Could be the mother haunting me. It looked more like the mother in my dreams, really… I can’t tell which one’s more dangerous. A startled, angry child? Or...”

“A vengeful mother?”

————

My OC girl she is cool and rides camels and she’s a superb shot and also she’s really funny and she is a cool girl. thanks👍 her name is weird on purpose because she lives in the apocalypse but her friends name is simple because hes also in the apocalypse but hes a loser🫶

[nyetmonkey]

My darling girl

I struggle so much with finding my style, but at least it means I get to draw your beauty in a million more ways.

[nyetmonkey]

Her hair bolts wildly

Edges dart sharply, and I think it looks funnily like a pinecone when she shakes her hair just right. I smell crisp autumn, arriving gallantly with every swivel, spin, swing, every turn of her body. Her sweat, perfume and breath mixed to a concoction of change, red, rich and gold.

I feel each beat turn to hollow, crisp crunches of early-bird branches, fallen leaves. Her arms are swinging dramatically, and our arms will swing clasped together on a warm September morning.

The woods will be quieter, but our minds will still sing.

[nyetmonkey]

🎶 Puuppy and Kitty!!

They are so much fun

But in all cases

Dont give them any guns 🎶

[nyetmonkey]

One day, some day, you look down into the bathroom sink.

You look into the bathroom sink and the water is muddy, and brown. Due for a clean, you'll think.

Perhaps you’ve simply forgotten, or the fatigue finally caught up to you like fire trails up the tail of a running fox.

You’ll look up at the mirror and somehow feel filthier looking ahead rather than looking down.

It’s an inevitable feeling.

Call for me, to clean your mirror.

It was never you. It will never be you.