Good Letter, Bad Letter.

Love letters to a woman seen from two perspectives of the same maniac.

Good Letter:

“Darkness turns tail at first sight of you, the doubts flee, my heart thumps with vigour, you awaken the latent sunrise in a lost alley.”

Bad Letter:

“Dear you. Do you remember, the sixteenth of December? It’s when I was fucking a flesh-light outside your bedroom window and imagining it was your cunt, and that I was smashing my battering ram into your fleshy gates. As the viscous, disgusting and fetid white gunk slipped out of the artificial crevice, I cried, God I cried, the tears stinging my cheeks as I wrung the last fucking tears out of my slippery and flaccid fuck pump. Then you called the police, so I hurled the spunk covered flesh-light at your letterbox, a gift from my shuddering sacks, and watched the sick spill drip down your front fucking door. See you next time.”


About neilstilwell

Abseiling into trouble, a sewer rat staring at the stars. Disgusting. You can assist my search for the one ring by buying a Kindle version of this diary from here. It has some other stuff in it, and a dreadful cover.
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