#rentmen

[unexpressedthoughtsanddesires]

“The Apology I Keep Writing for You”

I still flinch when someone says your name, like it’s a blade I swallowed that never stopped slicing.

But I don’t let myself get angry.

I say, he’s young, he didn’t mean to, maybe he was just scared.

I wrap your ghost in bubble wrap, cradle it like a bruised peach instead of the rotting thing it became.

I turn your silence into sonnets. Your lies— I turn them into lullabies so I can sleep at night without choking on the truth.

I keep defending you in courtrooms that don’t exist, to juries who never asked.

I say: he's had it rough, he doesn't trust easily, he never asked for love—

—but I gave it anyway like an organ to someone who never wanted to live.

You hurt me. Softly. Slowly. Repeatedly. Like water on stone. A thousand tiny kindnesses you never meant but I kept carving into scripture.

You bled me dry and called it a favor.

And I thanked you. I always fucking thanked you.

Even now— with this hollow in my chest, this self I can’t quite find— I still want you to feel okay.

I keep writing poems that apologize for yours.

Keep rewriting history so I don’t have to hate you.

Because if I hate you I’ll have to admit you saw how much I cared and you used it. You saw me starving and you threw crumbs just to watch me crawl.

And still— I can’t stop hoping you’ll turn around, just once, and say:

I knew what I was doing. I knew you loved me. I took and I took and I never looked back. And I’m sorry.

But I know you won’t. You’re not cruel enough to confess. Only cruel enough to pretend it was never that deep.

So I keep the rage buried in the back of my throat, choke on it like a secret name I never get to say out loud.

And I call that love.

[rentmenfakes]

[wyoarab]

[abbiuradime]

go down to be high

[nakedjock360]

#gay #rentmen #instagay #pornlife #model

[kk3580]

I wonder if I’d have any takers…

[unexpressedthoughtsanddesires]

Infinity in Ruins

I just wanted to be your baby, but here I am, choking on the lie, swallowing your cruelty like the last drink in a bar full of empty promises. You pull me in, kiss me hard, and the ecstasy tastes like poison, but I lap it up because it’s you, always you, the god I built in my head out of scraps of shame and desperation.

You push me down, drag me across the floor— and I beg for more, because somewhere in the pain there’s a sliver of something real, something that feels like love if I squint hard enough.

Play me, twist me, I’m your doll, your fucking masterpiece of control. You’re the director of this never-ending scene, lights out, no taps, no mercy, and I’m the fool in the corner, willing to bleed for a moment in your gaze.

Fucking chase me. Break me. Tear me down until there’s nothing left but the dust of who I was, because that’s the only way I’ll ever feel worthy of standing next to you. You’re perfect, a statue carved from cruelty, and I worship you like a sinner begging for absolution.

Can’t you see? I’ve never seen another man this perfect, never wanted anything as much as I want you— your lips, your hands, the way you ruin me and leave me begging for more. I want to be yours, just yours, forever, even if forever means infinity in ruins.

Kiss me, so I can pretend you miss me. Drag me to your bed, let me imagine there’s a future for us in the sweat-stained sheets and the bruises you leave behind. I know you’ll fuck me, just enough to keep me close, but never close enough to matter.

You stress me out. You tear me apart. But I’m addicted to the game, to the way you make me feel alive even as you kill me slowly. Abuse me, use me, I’ll give you everything I have because I don’t know how to quit you.

And when you’re gone, when the door slams shut and the silence swallows me whole, I’ll sit here, clutching the pieces of my pathetic devotion, wondering if this is all there is— a love that isn’t love, a heartbreak that never ends, and the ashes of a dream I was too blind to let die.

[unexpressedthoughtsanddesires]

A Soft Want

I wish I could say it— just say it plain. “I’m tired.” Not just work-tired, but soul-tired, dissolving quietly in the corners no one dusts.

I wish I could look at you and not shrink beneath my own honesty, not second-guess your sigh or your silence or the way your eyes flick toward anywhere but me when I say I’m not okay.

It’s not drama. It’s not attention. It’s just a heaviness that needs to be named.

But I don’t want to scare you off, don’t want to wear the word burden like a name tag again. I’ve already done that in too many rooms where care feels like obligation.

I don’t want the lecture, the checklist, the “let’s fix it” plan.

I just want the kind of love that listens without leaning away.

Maybe I say, “I feel empty today.” And you don’t rush to fill me, you just sit beside me, your silence a hand around mine.

Then we can go outside— watch the light bleed across the sky like it knows something about aching. We can laugh at nothing, wrap arms around shadows until the night forgets we were sad.

Just that. Not a cure. Not a solution. Just to be held while I fall apart a little.

That’s all I ever wanted.

Just someone who stays when I stop trying to be fine.