Repressed Desires Grow Bitter on the Tongue

If you let them ink you to their liking, turn you into what they believe you should be, they will rip my heart out of your chest and watch us scream… Bare your teeth, my Love. Tell them the dark, dark, dark spot in your mind (the one normalcy can’t touch without dying or falling or changing for the better) belongs to me. Remind them that in ink, I am tenderness and terror.

You can lie to them. But between you and me, Love, and the wild wonders my flesh knows of your bones, masks will not stand true. I can still feel you (whispering old wants, weaving new stories) in me. Silence is not a natural environment for love or lust. I can’t delight in us, if you won’t talk to me—

scream your want into my skin, repressed desires grow bitter on the tongue.

the visual poetry

the wee notes…
– I borrowed a partial phrase from my favorite quote, out of The Thirteenth Tale, by Diane Setterfield: “Silence is not a natural environment for stories. They need words. Without them they grow pale, sicken and die. And then they haunt you.” Seriously, they do you… with chainsaws… and mad ravens.
– linked to the Imaginary Garden with Real Toads.

51 thoughts on “Repressed Desires Grow Bitter on the Tongue

  1. I have no idea how you manage to come up with something up to the standard of “scream your want into my skin” in nearly every post.

    Damn you.

    Well, no. Please keep doing it.

  2. I feel totally bewitched reading this…and so many gorgeous visual images passing through my mind! You have a powerful way of unleashing your decadent soul and deep magic through all you create…wowness!! ( repressed desires grow bitter on the tongue)
    I also love the pictures…what a visual feast!!

    I also can totally see this being a video with many intriguing images passing by as you voice is heard reading…

    Have a gorgeous day
    V

  3. My goodness this is absolutely exquisite!❤️ Love the resistance to external forces for indeed our personality .. desires.. and inner workings of soul can not be molded according to another person’s greed or interest. This will stay with me: “repressed desires grow bitter on the tongue.” Beautifully penned. Happy Tuesday gorgeous!😘🍹

  4. I have read this five times now, and could read it 50 more. In each read, a new story appears. The visuals your words “breath into life” are never ending, the colors magnificent. I envision your ink to your writings as paint is to an artist. You paint a beautiful canvas my dear.

    Out of all of this, “Remind them that in ink, I am tenderness and terror” is my favorite line…I say grinning!

    Amazing as always Magaly!

  5. I’m bewitched by your use of contrasts and opposites
    like tenderness and tender. That is passion, that is why ink is blood.

  6. “Talk to me,” I cannot read you right. ‘The old and the new and the now are in conflict.’
    Nice read, Magaly, I hope to never be in either’s shoes.
    ..

    • I’ve never understood why some people expect others to just “read” them. So many horrors could be avoided if people just used their mouths.

      I’m with you on this, Jim. Those are not very desirable shoes.

  7. I too needed to read your words several times before commenting. I especially love the phrase ‘ink you to their liking’, so apt for writers, and it is maddeningly easy to let them do it. It is harder to bare one’s teeth but once you learn it’s addictive to be inky tenderness and terror.
    And I agree that silence is not a natural environment for love or lust and that ‘repressed desires grow bitter on the tongue’.The visuals have mirrored your words stunningly, Magaly.

  8. they will rip my heart out of your chest and watch us scream… Bare your teeth, my Love. Tell them the dark, dark, dark spot in your mind

    Beautifully descriptive of the dark, dark poetry that you thrive on, Magaly!

    Hank

  9. It’s been a while and for that I am so sorry…Life…having said that it’s like I never went away…everything is the same…but different 😉 The passion, the precise prose that bites, the insight, the inked blood…you are a marvellous writer. Missed ya x

  10. Tenderness and (a certain kind of) terror make excellent bedfellows…er, as it were. Repressed things can’t grow straight or be themselves–which is why I view bonsai as plant torture–and the same applies to love and those who wish to share it. Too many good lines to quote, full of feeling and also full of thought. The blacked-out bits seem to draw you back in to the whole even as they highlight and condense. Forgive me for being such a poor reader these days–every day seems to be in a contest with the day before to see what it can do to me. 😉

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