Nourish Me (by Rylan Hunter)
Isn’t he pretty? So many hours online … searching, waiting, expecting the right one to give me a sign and he did … by believing me. So easy. So many faceless voices crying out for someone to hear them … to want them. Do you know how much loneliness exists in this world? Enough to break the cruelest heart.
His uncertainty was written between each line of bravado with the sweetest layers of hope wrapped around every word like ribbon on a broken doll. Don’t you just love human nature? A man can be kicked a thousand times over but with the right voice whispering in his ear … he’ll willingly offer himself a thousand and one times.
His desire to please me strikes at his fear in a flurry of emotions that he can’t name. I can name them. There’s the shame that keeps him soft even with my own excitement pressing into his back … the self-loathing that convinces him he deserves the penance dripping slowly over his neck. I can name them … I own every single one. You know who I am ….
….I’m the darkness beneath your bed, the sudden chill that makes you shiver on a warm evening … I gave birth in a rush of black fluid to fear, despair … hate. I feed on desolation and with each passing day my hunger is more sated.
Oh … so fucking beautiful. He’s afraid he might have made a mistake with me and I would soothe away the screams if I could but … my mouth is busy. His terror nourishes me in a crash of cymbals, the seductive beat of the drum that drowns out the wild rhythm of his heart spasming beneath his chest. I hang in the shadows of the rapture … so close to tumbling into the jagged shards of sweet release.
Crimson … a sinful work of art … enough to make the demons weep. I create the finishing touches with my tongue and the slick fluids are compliant beneath the cold muscle. What about you … are you lonely enough to believe me when I tell you I understand you? I see the way your eyes dance over him with jealousy but there’s little need for that. You could be him … if I want you to. Isn’t he pretty?
Photography by Chris Teel