I really love people. I have an affinity for my species.

I do not wish to pay host play host play host

Every night I lay down in my warm bed and behind my eyes there are spines that push against my warm skin

Every night my blood is enchanted to be solid

In my isolation I feel my belly pulsing with hard, rigid masses

They grind against eachother and against my internal flesh

Pinching and snagging that which makes me function

Pulling between them my tender, tender, tender, tender, tender, tender, fragile

And pulverizing it with their erotic grinding

I feel blood coming and I feel my bile leaking into my chest

But they are all frozen

It does not hurt and death will not come

But they will tear

Until the discomfort makes me scream