Raz
Bluelighter
A boy with fetish carved into him stares at me from that looking glass. He longs to be accepted, like all people long for acceptance. He wants it on his own terms, but he's never so sure what those terms are. He tries on different skins then, to see how each one fits - and some fit better than others, but it's never just right.
Leather and metal and amyl and piss and games of domination and submission beckon him, make him more at home with never being at home. Dark rooms that smell like bodies in heat and parks that hide sex rustling in the undergrowth are his territory. His world isn't one that accepts him, it's a world that doesn't accept anybody. When everybody is strange, to be normal is the strangest thing of all and that world through the looking glass becomes more inviting.
Fetish is carved into him and love is just a word trapped inside a bleeding heart. A kiss can be passionate, it can hurt or invade, but it can never bring the attention he needs.
Hugs are for acquaintances, to feign affection.
All the world looks this way through that looking glass, but in finding that way of life he's somehow forgotten; the real world is out here, and nothing has prepared him for it. So there he stays, adding voyeur to his list of sexual idiosyncracies, and he watches this world pass him by...
Leather and metal and amyl and piss and games of domination and submission beckon him, make him more at home with never being at home. Dark rooms that smell like bodies in heat and parks that hide sex rustling in the undergrowth are his territory. His world isn't one that accepts him, it's a world that doesn't accept anybody. When everybody is strange, to be normal is the strangest thing of all and that world through the looking glass becomes more inviting.
Fetish is carved into him and love is just a word trapped inside a bleeding heart. A kiss can be passionate, it can hurt or invade, but it can never bring the attention he needs.
Hugs are for acquaintances, to feign affection.
All the world looks this way through that looking glass, but in finding that way of life he's somehow forgotten; the real world is out here, and nothing has prepared him for it. So there he stays, adding voyeur to his list of sexual idiosyncracies, and he watches this world pass him by...
impressive, you've brought some things out into the light with these lines that once were hidden, scary...but ready for healing.
.
