'so now begins the waiting.' - poem by Quinara [R]
So, I've been threatening for ages to try and write some S6 Spike POV poetry (ever since I wrote this fic, pretty much)... This doesn't really fill that promise, since it isn't an especially angry poem and it's not especially fine-crafted. But I'm interested by it, so I thought I'd post! Slightly stream-of-consciousness; Spike some time before Dead Things; R for rude words and some gross imagery; sex and stuff. For the prompt 'Starting a sexual relationship/Being strong in the face of temptation'.
so now begins the waiting.
As you’ve fucked off again, so now begins the waiting.
My heart, my head, my senses, everything
Is eking out from all the blood you wasted pulling south
And I can see you, clear as all your spunk on me.
I used to dream of fucking you, you know?
Your cunt would slide down me like butter, melting
As I pushed against your thighs
All plush and hard and giving up against my chest.
That feeling, that sensation - still there in my head
Its memory’s more real than anything you’ve done.
I cannot feel it, when you’re here with me
I cannot. All there’s now is cold, transpiring energy
As what is left of me dries off in your old heat.
Ink dries in your old heat.
I used to have illusions, blurry thoughts of you.
The Bot - her body had it wrong,
Was all too soft and curving
Dream made plastic flesh
Belied by you, your boyish tits and waist.
My dreams still give you curves sometimes.
But I am waiting -
- not for you
No fool would wait for you to come again -
I’m waiting for the veil to fall once more.
It’s here, in this cool, dying time that I
Can know the real you, how much I can’t care
How much I cannot feel
How much your flesh against me lies with every flame of heat.
As I cool off in this warm air
The heat of you is gone
And there is nothing but that emptiness you cosset close.
Until I sleep and dream again I love you.
.
so now begins the waiting.
As you’ve fucked off again, so now begins the waiting.
My heart, my head, my senses, everything
Is eking out from all the blood you wasted pulling south
And I can see you, clear as all your spunk on me.
I used to dream of fucking you, you know?
Your cunt would slide down me like butter, melting
As I pushed against your thighs
All plush and hard and giving up against my chest.
That feeling, that sensation - still there in my head
Its memory’s more real than anything you’ve done.
I cannot feel it, when you’re here with me
I cannot. All there’s now is cold, transpiring energy
As what is left of me dries off in your old heat.
Ink dries in your old heat.
I used to have illusions, blurry thoughts of you.
The Bot - her body had it wrong,
Was all too soft and curving
Dream made plastic flesh
Belied by you, your boyish tits and waist.
My dreams still give you curves sometimes.
But I am waiting -
- not for you
No fool would wait for you to come again -
I’m waiting for the veil to fall once more.
It’s here, in this cool, dying time that I
Can know the real you, how much I can’t care
How much I cannot feel
How much your flesh against me lies with every flame of heat.
As I cool off in this warm air
The heat of you is gone
And there is nothing but that emptiness you cosset close.
Until I sleep and dream again I love you.
.