The second day, I watched you suffer through one of your nightmares, but this one was worse than I’d seen before.
You called out another man’s name.
Tags: memory nightmares
All the enormous machines that keep full Citizens comfortable far above us in their glittering towers, all the infrastructure of power, of fuel, of commerce and industry—all of it happens below. Made possible with our hands. With our bodies.
With our lives.
I would have done anything to escape.
I got my chance. I made it out—but the price was loneliness.
Tags: tyranny dystopia exploitation
Undertown. You maybe don’t remember it. Your clothes don’t smell of it. Of the filth, the rot. The stinking hell of vapor and grime. The warren of hovels and the millions of us starving in them, defending whatever pathetic collection of things we call ‘ours’—sometimes to the death, yet still doing little more than waiting to die.
Julio Alexi GenaoTags: urban-dystopia
My skin hungered for you. You were warm, and alive, and in my bed, and I wanted you so bad I could feel the ripple of need on the pads of my fingertips, on the palms of my hands, on the skin of my back, at the base of my cock, inside my ass—
I wanted the taste of you in my mouth.
Tags: loneliness desire
I know you’ve forgotten me, but I’ll remember you as long as I live.
Julio Alexi GenaoTags: unrequited-love
It's like a—like a video panel, you know that? Your face. I don’t think you realize how much of what happens inside you that can be seen in your face.
Maybe it was just me. I paid attention to you.
Tags: emotional-transparency
You were the monster, but all I could see was the boy.
Julio Alexi GenaoTags: wounds rage brokenness
The outside of you had peeled away, and I could see your insides as clear as my own hand in my lap, aching to reach for you.
Julio Alexi GenaoTags: hurt-comfort
I couldn’t make myself move from the bed. To reach for you. I’d known this moment was coming, and now that it had arrived I found I had no strength in my limbs.
Only my voice. Only words.
Asking you to stay.
Tags: heartache goodbyes begging
You’re safe, here.”
“But you are not,” you whispered. “Not ever. I forget. I forget and then I’ll—I could kill you.”
When I didn’t reply, you dropped your head again.
I almost missed it when you murmured, “I always kill them, in the end.
Tags: vulnerability
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