6th of june, ’24
O divine, my divine, i shall feast on you tonight.
My teeth chew, salivating on the rotten, fresh heart of yours; it is all mine.
Love, I am fucking sick of pretending that I am not mental about you, I wrote you in a beautiful heart wrenching poetic way, how I love you in the most pure good romance that could only be found in movies and books but its more than that baby, more.
You have singlehandedly torn the very fabric of my reality, shaking my existence to its core merely by your presence.
Don’t you understand yet? You have the power to break me apart if you wish, and I would let you do it willingly. You could strip the skin from my body, tear my flesh into countless pieces, drain every drop of blood from my veins, and grind my bones into the finest powder, and I would hand you every tool you needed to do so.
There is a certain magnificence in the brutality, and you make me appreciate it intensely. The grotesque transforms into something beautiful when it’s with you, my darling.
I want to swallow you, have you melt into me and flow through my veins.
To be loved means to be consumed. To love means to radiate with inexhaustible light. To be loved is to pass away, to love is to endure.
There is something almost divine in the destruction you could wreak. The violence, the gore, the pain—all of it becomes a testament to your magnificence. With you, the grotesque morphs into something extraordinarily beautiful. It’s a transformation that defies logic and reason, yet it’s something I cannot deny. The horror of the dismemberment becomes a symphony of dark beauty when it is orchestrated by your hands.
The raw and brutal nature of our connection is not something to be feared, but rather something to be revered. It is in this terrifying beauty that I find a sense of purpose and meaning. The agony you could inflict is paradoxically intertwined with the ecstasy of being close to you.
This willingness to be undone by you is not a sign of weakness but rather a testament to the depth of my devotion. I see a magnificence in the pain, a splendor in the suffering, that only you can unveil. Each act of destruction you perform is a creation of art in itself, a display of power that I cannot help but admire. The raw, unfiltered brutality becomes a canvas on which your magnificence is painted.
There is an undeniable allure in this dynamic. The boundaries between pain and pleasure blur, creating a space where the grotesque becomes breathtakingly beautiful. The raw intensity of our connection brings forth a sense of beauty in the otherwise horrifying. The blood, the flesh, the bones—they all become part of a larger masterpiece that you create. With you, every act of destruction becomes a celebration of the sublime.
In your hands, I am not just a victim of violence but a willing participant in a darkly beautiful symphony. Each cut, each tear, each broken bone is a note in the hauntingly beautiful melody that only you can compose. There is a profound beauty in the grotesque, a beauty that you reveal to me in the most intimate and powerful ways.
I want to bind together our bodies,
intertwine our bones.
I want you to devour me. To watch you,
strip off all layers of my flesh and digest.
So, do you see now? The power you wield over me is immense, yet I embrace it with open arms. You transform the terrifying into the divine, the horrifying into the sublime. With you, the grotesque becomes gorgeous, and I find myself drawn deeper into the dark beauty of our connection. You hold the power to break me, and I would gladly let you, for in that breaking, there is a magnificence that only you can unveil.
Everyone may see only the horror in this , but I see the beauty in the brutality. I see the artistry in the pain, the splendor in the suffering, all brought to life by your hands. You make me appreciate the magnificence in the gore, turning the grotesque into something profoundly beautiful. With you, darling, the terrifying becomes breathtaking, and I am utterly captivated by it.
the cannibal exists in two extremes: one for the depravity of it & one for the sacredness of the mouth. the brute cannibal, already outcasted by society, wants nothing more than the sick satisfaction of enacting a taboo. to be a people eater for the sake of saying "you were right. i kill & consume. you were right. here i am. i have broken the rules. ive been a wolf in your woods & i want you to be afraid."
the other cannibal, however, is the one that is good at mercy. takes the flesh between the fingers not for the shock of the audience, but because they cannot stand the separation. a sentimental thing that twists into a set of teeth. the tragic romantic.
"cometell me you don't know this ache. when i say closer" i mean without the curtain of skin & bone between us. i mean "oh, darling, i could keep you with me. i could honor you with the knife of my smile." yes, when the blade hits a vein, it sings "let me make you mine."
just listen. just listen please. don’t leave.
Sincerely yours,
your kade.
