Tomic Riter

Tag: love

  • Shaking up the things.

    Sleepy eyes. Sweat on my back. Scorching sun following me everywhere. Sitting for hours at one desk. Often, I forget I have the choice to stand up. Often, I forget to take a piss. Often, I forget to drink water. Often, I am just sitting there at my desk, waiting for the working hours to end so that I can go back home and make myself some black coffee, play some old gold music, do a little writing, look out of the window of my bedroom, lie in bed and imagine you on me and end up masturbating and then back in my chair. Today is another day when you won’t be here until late. You are tired, I know. You want to get done with it as quickly as possible. I wish you were here. I could have given you a nice body massage before you went to work, and then we would have made love again. We are making love now. In my head, we are making love all the time, your skin on my skin, me touching you everywhere at once. There’s dust buried in the corner of my eyes, dust flowing through the window and settling down on my sofa, dust everywhere on the road to my home. Caffeine has started kicking in. I can feel it in my eyes more than anywhere else. I can feel it clearly. Tomorrow, I run out of water. But that happens tomorrow and it may never come. Gulping down the last of this coffee now. Putting down the cup. Touching my cock. Closing my eyes. You are here.

    Copyright © Tomic Riter. All rights reserved.

  • I am growing for you anyways.

    Back home after a short day at work. A colleague, who is a fucking asshole, got tested positive. So we all packed our shit and left all the files and documents, urgent or not, on a goddamn table and we locked that hellish place and drove off. On the way back, it started raining. My clothes are still wet. I am sitting half naked in my chair and thinking about how it started raining out of nowhere. I wasn’t prepared for the weather. But then, I am hardly ever prepared for anything. I am sitting bare-chested and thinking about how the raindrops were hitting my head like giant boulders falling from the sky. I am sitting and sipping hot coffee and thinking about your lips on my cock this morning, about your hands on my skin, I am thinking about you under me. We look so beautiful, so wonderful like that. We become the most peaceful of all the creatures. I love you under me, my legs between your legs, my chest touching your breasts, you wanting my mouth on those big and pretty nipples. I love us. I love me and you moving together. I was thinking about your ass back at work, and I am thinking about your ass now. I am thinking about your ass all the time, how it moves for me, how it makes me want you so badly. You are gone again but I am growing for you anyways. Your lips have torn apart my head. Your tongue puts me out of any misery. I could feed on those lovely nipples of yours all my life. It all feels so great and alright with my cock deep inside of you. I feel happy and alive. It’s noon now and your thoughts continue to make me wet. I will take a piss and change my clothes and go out and find something warm to eat.

    Copyright © Tomic Riter. All rights reserved.

  • I am talking.

    Why is my tongue flapping in want of you. The clouds have gathered after a long time. It will rain. Oh look at the roads. They are already wet. It has already rained. We could have fucked all morning before you went to work and I went back to hell. But you aren’t here and neither am I. I am talking to the stained walls, to the damaged television. I am talking to my bottle of hot water, to the night lamps that never burn. I am talking to the clouds because all the rainwater has dried in their fat grey bellies. I am talking to the fuming exhaust of these loaded trucks – enter my lungs and make me faint. I am talking and talking and doing nothing much. I am doing all this when I could have drank your cum and begun my day.

    Copyright © Tomic Riter. All rights reserved.

  • All with one sour eye.

    Woke up again with a goddamn headache. My left eye is still sour and watering through the noon. Is this another infection? Am I going blind? What if I go blind? What is left to see, after all? I tile my head to right and think. I close my eyes and squeeze them under the lids. Let them run dry. Let them turn to stone. You are asleep or you are dying on your table or you are touching yourself and thinking about me or you are working and thinking about me or you are just thinking about me. I pull my hairs as I think. I squeeze my balls as I think. I think as I slowly go blind in one eye.

    Woke up again. Thought about you. Thought about my cock between your legs, about your nipple in my mouth, about your clitoris rubbing my thighs. My left eye is vomiting again. I wash it with acid water. I wash it thrice but nothing. I walk back to my chair, pop a vitamin pill. I thank god because Mother’s Day is over. Another stupid day if you ask me. Why is everybody so insane and so fake all the time every year. Ironically, they are the same people who talk about liberty and equality and all that stupid shit. We all deserve a decent death, and until that comes, a fine living. But those fuckers will ruin it for every single one of us. I close my left eyes and squeeze it under the lid. It’s a joyful irritation. Yes, I am mad but there’s no other way. Yes, I am mad and my tongue is licking you everywhere. Yes, I am mad and there’s nothing an electric shock can do to me. Yes, I am mad and I am filling you with my cum for the rest of your life and my life. Yes, I am mad and I am mad and you are going away again. I lock away my eye in a drawer and walk to the toilet.

    Evening birds are dying in the white careless air. They are quiet now. Everything is quiet now, everything except this head of mine. Everything is quiet except this stomach that wants some more. I take a walk, sit down on the grass. I do that and nothing else and my arms wait for your arms and my lips wait for your lips and my cock is asleep for some time now. The pleasant winds appear magically and enter my shorts and they crawl up my sweaty chest and jump out of my neck. How long before I get up and walk again. What am I waiting here? It’s nothing. I wonder if you are drunk. You are never drunk and I haven’t drank in a long time, except from your lips and your breasts. You are never drunk and I wait for you to open that bottle. You are never drunk and you will drink and you stomach will scream all night like mine.

    Copyright © Tomic Riter. All rights reserved.

  • We are making love again.

    The buzzing electric saw caught my senses. I was sitting by the window, as usual. The curtains were closed. Nothing much outside to look at during the day. Also, it was just too hot. So hot, the sunlight would roast your skin immediately. I pushed aside the curtain to look outside. Who is that motherfucker running an electric saw at this hour? Hasn’t he got anything else to do? Why is he carrying out his bullshit here? Who is he? Let’s look out of the window and try to find out. Where is that motherfucker? Let’s look a little further. The fucker is nowhere to be seen. Why am I having an erection right now? Oh it’s you. It’s you, spreading your legs in my thoughts, kissing my tongue, kissing my cock, driving me mad. It’s you and I am growing for you. I forgot about the electric saw.

    I took a shower and then we made love again. The electric saw was gone. Now, there was a hammer falling on a nail and it kept falling as we kissed and I climbed on top of you and licked your neck and ate your lips and we ate each other and at one time, the hammering outside stopped – at what time I couldn’t tell.

    It’s evening and I am walking with a bulge in my shorts. We are making love again and my cock is leaking under your panties. Your ass in my lap, my hands inside your dress, your mouth inside mine and my tongue touching yours and we are kissing and kissing and hugging and kissing and hugging and hugging and kissing and kissing and there’s no end and I am wet and full of you.

    It’s night. You are back to reading Orwell. I am thinking about you, about all the kissing and all the hugging. I am thinking about everything. You read a little and then we are kissing again.

    Copyright © Tomic Riter. All rights reserved.

  • In the other somewhere.

    in the other room

    in the other world

    in some other life

    they keep screaming at each other

    and they keep connecting and diconnecting

    phone calls and continue shouting

    and ranting bullshit

    as I wake up to a dull bright evening

    rolling in my bed alone

    thinking about kissing you

    and masturbating once more.

    Copyright © Tomic Riter. All rights reserved.

  • Look for yourself.

    split open the head of a real poet

    and you will find it full of

    scum cum dirt boredom

    lies smoke fire hell

    tears more cum

    more tears and blood

    days of fever and defeat

    madness utter madness

    and a lot more horrible things

    and he will die

    before he opens his mouth or

    before he begins to make any sense.

    Copyright © Tomic Riter. All rights reserved.