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