deepundergroundpoetry.com

Codex

No one needed to kill him. He was doing an excellent job of that himself.
 
Drinking himself stupid, snorting himself senseless and draining every last drop of semen from his monstrous cock into any woman that would have him.
 
He cared not one jot for the women he would seduce with his beer soaked and nicotine infused clothing, his slurred speech or his laboured walk.His huge ego presumed he had some mythical power over these women.His huge ego thought he'd be doing them a favour.
 
Not so.
 
The women had no desire for him other than the huge bulge in his pants and the even bigger bulge in his wallet.They could clean out his wallet and his balls before he was even aware.....and they did.
 
It was a routine.Drink,snort,fuck,do some writing and come home broke, crash into a shitty sleep and do it all again tomorrow.
He would keep doing it until he died.
 
That's what he wanted and that's what he got.
 
His habits loaded the gun and his finger pulled the trigger.
 
Vale Hemingway, I envy you.
Written by backdeckbenny
Published | Edited 12th Dec 2024
Author's Note
He liked hunting and then became the hunted.Hunted from inside.
All writing remains the property of the author. Don't use it for any purpose without their permission.
likes 1 reading list entries 0
comments 3 reads 56
Commenting Preference: 
The author is looking for friendly feedback.

Latest Forum Discussions
SPEAKEASY
Today 1:30pm by Ahavati
COMPETITIONS
Today 1:22pm by Grace
POETRY
Today 00:13am by ajay
COMPETITIONS
Yesterday 10:46pm by wallyroo92
SPEAKEASY
Yesterday 7:08pm by Abracadabra
COMPETITIONS
Yesterday 2:27pm by Ahavati