I’m not asking. I’m begging.

milkrot. novel excerpts. poetry. taboo thoughts turned into art. 25 🕊️🫒🤎🍄‍🟫🎍

[mournfulroses]

Rosa Chacel, from a diary entry featured in Diario, originally published in 1993

[wetpageslit]

i saw you for a moment

soaking up the sun

i couldn’t believe

what i have become

my chest a hollow drum

echoing the words i want to send

i reach toward you

but we are too distant

the ache is a bruise

and i press it anyway

so not to forget you

my sweet muse

[wetpageslit]

i wanted nothing more than to be your pet. what i would give…

[enlaniakea]

`🌿: ^🍃₊🪷

[wetpageslit]

cherry burnetts

burns my throat

i swallow it down

it makes me choke

you don’t notice

you’re cutting lines

dumping the bag

emptying the dime

[wetpageslit]

i haven’t written

he hasn’t been on my mind.

stillness

but no peace.

i know it will return

autumn always does.

the crisp air carries him back:

leather

bourbon

the beatles bleeding into mozart.

[wetpageslit]

i am trying not to write about you

but my hands are traitors

they write your name over and over

like prayer

like punishment.

[wetpageslit]

procreate

•done by me

[wetpageslit]

we share space with one another

the air thick with words unsaid.

if he knew what i wanted, would he run or lock the door?

my stomach knots at the thought of his recoil.

if he knew how badly i ache to please him, would he let me kneel at his feet and worship his mind?

he moves like smoke through my skull, choking out my senses and clinging to pieces of my soul.

places i once thought were mine.

if he knew the rot behind my devotion, would he pull away?

i would let him ruin me, if it meant he’d stay.

. photo done using procreate by me .

[wetpageslit]

i felt the spark again.

but the flame didn’t take.

there’s still something missing.

my sanity is at stake.

[wetpageslit]

i am begging to be worshiped by an older man.

[wetpageslit]

- i suffer in silence -

he lives in my head

like a prayer on repeat

he forced his way in

and now i kneel.

he was my first wound

and now i smell him in leather

taste him in bourbon

and see him in every man

make me holy.

make me yours.

but only in secret

i suffer in silence.

[vaibhavvii-deactivated20250805]

WRITING INSECURITY

You write something and it feels worth sharing. But then you read someone else’s work, and suddenly yours feels small.

[wetpageslit]

he asks if i’m alone. my breath stops, my throat tight, like i’ve swallowed my own heartbeat. “yes,” i say, “our old office.” where we once filled hours with talk of the universe and hide from the bruises of work and home. he pauses and i wait. hoping he will tell me what i crave; his want, his love, his ruin. i wonder if he knows his words could kill me.

instead, he asks about work. we shit talk our boss. i laugh a little too loud. it’s all normal.

my heart falls. heavy and mean. i hate myself for hoping.

- inspired by girls like me - a WIP

[wetpageslit]

your silence is pain

i miss the way you worshiped my brain

[wetpageslit]

- hunt me down -

hunt me down

and wrap me up

sell my soul

for a buck

i should have known

your intentions weren’t pure

that you’re a disease

with no cure

you infected my brain

branded with your name

my heart forever yours

[sag3s]

Vivamus, moriendum est