Degraded Sanity

When the mouth is silent, the pussy writes!

Degraded Sanity

I want to be fucked by the whole town and keep quiet

written from the gut, with a mouth full of disgust and lust

Yes, you read the title correctly.
I didn’t say it by mistake.
I haven’t been drinking.
I’m not joking.

I want to be fucked by the whole city.
Every street. Every intersection. Every block, foul-mouthed, drunk, old, student, rocker, fat, skinny, dirty, clean, ugly, desperate.
EVERYONE.

I want to walk into a room and feel like every man there has been inside me.
That everyone recognizes me not by my face, but by how their names moaned in my mouth.
I want them to look at me and scratch their pants as if my pussy is stuck in their memory.

And no, I don’t want to talk about it.
I want to SHUT UP.
Not say anything.
Not tell my friends.
Not post pictures.
Not seek attention.
I want to know that they fucked me. I want them to know that they had me. That’s it.

When I walk into the window, I’m not a person. I’m meat.
And I like it.
I’m half undressed and everyone knows what I’m selling.
And you know what? It doesn’t bother me.
It actually turns me on.
It makes me laugh when some people look at me with pity.
Fuck me, I’m happy in this mess.
I feel like a queen with cum on my thighs and crumpled money in my bra.

I’m tired of all the questions.
“Why do you do this?”
“Aren’t you ashamed?”
“Were you abused?”
No, I was HUNGRY and then I liked it. It’s simple.
It’s not trauma. It’s choice.

There are moments when I walk down the street and look at men and choose them with my eyes.
You. You. You. I want you today. I would take you in the hallway. You in the elevator.
Each one with something that arouses my desire.
And you know what I do? Nothing. I keep quiet.
I make a mental note.
Like an animal in heat that smiles silently.

I don’t want relationships. I don’t want flowers.
I want to be put in line.
Like a cigarette at the corner of the station.
Passed from mouth to mouth until there’s nothing left.

And when there’s nothing left, to be laid out on the bed, naked, sweaty, with weak legs, and think to myself:
“This is who I am. This is what I want. This is what I deserve.”

Let the whole city fuck me and I’ll keep quiet.
No crying.
No questions.
No drama.
Just pleasure.
Just lust.
Just my pussy, widened.

Romanian

Vreau sa fiu fututa de tot orasul si sa tac

scris din burta, cu gura plina de scarba si pofta

Da, ai citit bine titlul.
N-am zis din greseala.
N-am baut.
Nu glumesc.

Vreau sa fiu fututa de tot orasul.
De fiecare strada. De fiecare intersectie. De fiecare bloc, gura spurcata, betiv, batran, student, rocker, gras, slab, murdar, curat, urat, disperat.
TOTI.

Vreau sa intru intr-o incapere si sa simt ca fiecare barbat de acolo a fost in mine.
Ca fiecare ma recunoaste nu dupa fata, ci dupa cum le-a gemut numele in gura.
Vreau sa ma priveasca si sa se scarpine in pantaloni ca si cum pizda mea le-a ramas blocata in amintire.

Si nu, nu vreau sa vorbesc despre asta.
Vreau sa TAC.
Sa nu zic nimic.
Sa nu povestesc la prietene.
Sa nu pun poze.
Sa nu caut atentie.
Sa stiu EU ca m-au futut. Sa stie EI ca m-au avut. Atat.

Cand intru in vitrina, nu sunt om. Sunt carne.
Si imi place.
Sunt desfacuta pe jumatate si toata lumea stie ce vand.
Si stii ce? Nu ma deranjeaza.
Ba chiar ma excita.
Imi vine sa rad cand se uita unii la mine cu mila.
Da-ma dracu, eu sunt fericita in mocirla asta.
Eu ma simt regina cu sperma pe coapse si banii mototoliti in sutien.

Sunt obosita de atatea intrebari.
„De ce faci asta?”
„Nu ti-e rusine?”
„Ai fost abuzata?”
Ba, mi-a fost FOAME si apoi mi-a placut. E simplu.
Nu e trauma. E alegere.

Am momente cand merg pe strada si ma uit la barbati si ii aleg cu ochii.
Tu. Tu. Tu. Pe tine te-as vrea azi. Pe tine te-as lua pe hol. Pe tine in lift.
Fiecare cu ceva ce-mi trezeste pofta.
Si stii ce fac? Nimic. Tac.
Imi notez in cap.
Ca un animal in calduri care zambeste in liniste.

Nu vreau relatii. Nu vreau flori.
Vreau sa fiu bagata la rand.
Ca o tigare la coltul garii.
Trecuta din gura-n gura pana nu mai ramane nimic.

Si cand nu mai ramane, sa fiu intinsa in pat, goala, transpirata, cu picioarele moi, si sa zic in gand:
„Asta sunt. Asta vreau. Asta merit.”

Sa ma futa tot orasul si eu sa tac.
Fara plans.
Fara intrebari.
Fara drama.
Doar placere.
Doar pofta.
Doar pizda mea, lărgită.

Some things never make it here.

Private doors open elsewhere.

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