Lil Dee

Midnight Mischief, part 2

Added 2025-09-04 14:00:12 +0000 UTC

who am I in the night that no one finds but is sought and singled out for the desiring minds own affliction of prone imagination and misguided desire? what does the shape of me produce in equal or lesser form of that enigmatic causality of ardor (or rather smothered self for the purpose of serving an appetite)? it's slippery silk existence, hardly held and vastly fleeting, from one closed off moment to the next, diving deeper into the void of hunger, or perhaps a version of self knowledge and intellect. drip, drip into conscious existence until it becomes a drowning of need part of the persona no longer escapable, but loud loud loud, and no more sound other than the urge. and as it sits there now clung to you no longer able to separate ravenousness gnawing from self or identity, you are left hollowed out or whole. and sometimes both. the ringing of satisfaction in your ears? or the endless annoyed repetitiveness for more more more.