.
In the lowland fens at the worlds end,
Like the ferryman, a blue heron waits,
Eyes of dragon fly, hover, over still water,
His legs are the oars rowing to the dead.

It haunt's me every night 
That Immature primal urge
Ruined my night and for some time, My sight
Unbeknown to all
This broke down my sanity wall. 
 
Now different as a whole , a poorly lit soul
innocence will quickly drain
Prior excitement seems mundane
You stole the light from my world
I am a monster, I am him
And now, You'll fear the grim

Draw your talons
Across my back
Tear deep at my flesh
I will die as prey
For the sweet taste
Of your lust

My body aches
Each pain reminds me of you.
Of our encounter.
Of your bright and friendly smile.
I can not help but remember your eyes.
The way they transform from loving to something so different.
Your eyes become something primal,
like a lion stalking your next prey.
Me.
The way your heartbeat speeds up as my moans grow louder.
You are anything but gentle,
As I grow louder, and my breath becomes frantic
Moans turn into screams
Until I break beneath you.
Grabbing onto you,
My hands like claws in your back.
Clawing onto reality as the rest of my body escapes.
When I awake in the morning,
My body is sore.
With marks across my skin,
Reminding me of an encounter that began simply with a smile.

Two silhouettes muttered through cigarette smoke next to the tall, black double doors at the head of the corridor
unfazed by the white rectangles flickering above us. The doors parted
next thing I knew, I was in
a black box of four tall black walls, and a clammy black floor
made of the same padded fabric as the entrance doors.
Riotous bass pummelled through the room like a tortured bull.
There were hundreds of people here; maybe more
but they were all lying docile, faceless and still
against each other.

They were all young. I picked up an inconsistent rhythm of chests rising and falling
like ripples ushered across the sea by a gentle breeze.
Yet it was the overwhelming sense of flesh here that
lit a snarling viciousness within me. How it excited me and how
I feared it.
I was a butcher, afraid of what he could do.

I saw someone I recognised – her brown hair was tied back, her eyelashes
twitched in her slumber. I stepped over and sat behind her. She pulled herself closer to me
and kissed my cheek. I buried my face in her neck and placed my palm on her bare stomach
took my index finger, and ran a circle around her navel.

I can’t remember what happened after that.  Images slip through like
water in cupped hands.
But I remember the raw beat, and the gentle ripple of chests
and how it reminded me of the sleeping new-borns in a maternal ward.