Parasite – A Love Story (Remastered)

[Warning: contains strong language, implied sex, suicide and other triggering themes. Thread with caution.]

It starts with you and me in a gutter
just where the last battle ended
in our collective defeat
The rain covering us in promises
comforting to you
unreachable to me

your figure is blurred
the contours of your neck shining like a halo
trough the mist
I clench my teeth
as if this was a good place for your god…

I can barely feel the ground
I think I’m floating
curled up in fetal position
you’re approaching
with gritted teeth

“Gow ay” I spurt
my tongue gone numb from the cold
I won’t be your savior
not this time

Shouldn’t have said that…
You reach for me hesitatingly
and when you pick me up
I think my bones break in three
maybe four places
I cry out in sheer pain but you remain calm
you scrape me off the ground
and you hold me firmly
merely an inch from your chest
the way you hold on to something sharp edged
to prevent it from cutting you trough

“I hate you,” I whisper while you carry me
the way home seems longer than before
every step sends another wave of pain trough my body
and each time I yell
with added indignation
“I hate you. I fucking hate you!
But either you are not listening
or you do not care…

You lay me down on the couch to dry
like I’m an old piece of wood
and I say it again
but choke on my own words as you’re
shoving a spoon into my mouth
not even trying to conceal the disgust on your face as you
make me swallow
every mouthful
it all runs trough me like I’m empty
you have the touch of a lover
but my skin is so cold and I’m
still floating

In the small hours of the night I drift off to sleep
my head still leaning on your arm
We share a dream
a pleasant one
the sunflower fields of home
a world outside of the machine
a very real make-believe event
your fingertips on my lips and I think I’m no longer floating

But the dream ends far too soon
and I wake up my lips wrapped around a sour, metallic pipe
You standing above me, the hand with the gun shivering like crazy
“Give me one reason not to blow your fucking brains out”
you declare this and I shrug
my teeth clattering against the barrel
What gave it away?
I must have talked in my sleep
I say nothing
You’re eyes are burning
for a minute or maybe more
When I remain quiet you curse out loudly
throwing the weapon on the couch and storming off into your room
I don’t sleep much for the rest of the night

Weeks pass by in a haze
I cling to your presence, neglecting life
and I know you love me
when you lower me into the bathtub
cleaning me gently with your hands
did you really think you could wash it all away
when you try to feed me again
I resist violently
scratching your wrists when you try to open my mouth
you pull back in terror
“Why would you do that? I’m trying to help you!”
blood deluted with salty tears when you caress the marks I left you
but you don’t understand
only by staying this weak
cold and blue and hanging on the ledge of death
can I earn your pity
so I may
be the whisper behind your ear at night
the chilly breeze from the window

The more I approach you, the weaker you grow
You become absentminded,
forgetting to lock doors behind you
Almost as if you wanted me-
no, as if you’re daring me…
it couldn’t be…

Just inside your bedroom, you’ve constructed a tower of empty liquid bottles
I don’t know which is meant to keep me out –
the mere physical obstacle,
the way I cut up my feet when stumbling over the glass containers and they shatter beneath me,
or the poison that seeps into your mind
making you numb
so much easier for me to enter

I stay up all night, silently standing guard by your bed
watching you writhe and moan among the sheets
Nothing I can do to help you now
I should
I may even want to
I can’t
I’m making it worse
curled up here
so close to your vulnerable heart
I can’t stop now
I can’t
I’m deluded, high on the sensation of being alive again
I sneak closer and closer
eventually I crawl down under the covers next to you
enjoying the sensation of your skin against mine
I am cold, cold as stone, while you are dazed with fever, your body protesting the silent intrude
I caress the exposed veins on your wrists
I’m tingling with need
then you wake with a start

“What the fuck do you want? What are you doing here?”
You make a feeble attempt to push me away
your arms lack strength
so does your mind
I descend upon you like a fog
I hear you moan as you
give in

I don’t know who kissed first
no one would admit to it
we’ve started and we can’t stop
You pushing your body against mine and I
drinking your pain greedily while you
whisper curses into my mouth
Entering a symbiosis of lust and wanting
we give ourselves to each other
I cry out in pain
I cry for more
Our nest is covered in sweat and fear and passion and longing and
when you call out my name
I swear it sounds like poetry

I think I knew
that was the point from where we couldn’t recover
when it was too late
to loose the anchor
to forsake the sinking ship

It’s not like it was unexpected
I know no one could survive this kind of intimacy
with something like me
nobody can love an abyss
without being swallowed by it
the worst is, when the time comes
they usually throw themselves down willingly
no longer wanting to be apart

Hence I shouldn’t be surprised when I find you
the next morning
lying motionless on the bathroom floor
covered in crimson red
the wounds on your wrists gaping hollow
smirking at me

“How dare you?”
I yell in a high-pitched tone
as I drag your lifeless body trough the corridor
leaving a thick trail of blood behind
“How very fucking dare you try to leave me like that!”

My body fails me
as my feet slip in the warm blood and I
collapse on the floor

“God damn you!”
I yell
barely noticing
the tears falling down my cheeks
it’s all gone too far
the roles should be changed
but I’m the one cradling you

“I thought you were different!
You were different!”
the limp thing in my arms makes no notion of my words
a beautiful cage of flesh
a withering flower
even dead
you’re more than I will ever be
an endless drifter
a ghost
between time and space
doomed to watch everything slip trough my fingers
feeling the pulse of their last heartbeat
as it fades away in my grip
Even then I can do nothing but detach
return to the gutter
hoping for this eternal cycle to end

Such is the life of a parasite.

So, what can I say about this? It started out as a fan-fiction, inspired by something I came across online, and now it’s completely taken a life of its own. I wrote the initial version of this a long time ago on my blog, and I felt it was time I gave it a total revamp. Sorry for the length, I couldn’t keep it any shorter. It’s been a thrill to write and I’m quite pleased with the result. 




“Don’t worry. The vein isn’t cut,” you say and I
– no! Don’t touch me
“It’s not the problem”
I pull my fingers trough the trail of blood.
You are impure for sure,
but everyone, even the filthiest sinner is clean at the core,
inside, where it flows, I can smell it now, your innocent wanting, the growing need makes my stomach rumble
and I’m getting hungry I’m getting hungry I’m getting hungry
I need to breathe, need to restrain myself
I let my knees cave in and it’s better to fall, yes, better not to feel.
But of course, you catch me and your bony fingers dig into my hip
and trough your skin I can feel the life flowing, throbbing with fear
Your veins are shivering on my hipbone and my predator muscles are tensing
God I’m hungry I’m hungry I’m hungry I’m hungry
Your wrist is resting on my cheek a droplet of blood staining my lips and
suddenly no price is too great
I dig trough your skin feeling every wrong you’ve done sting, an electric pulse on my tongue
a betrayal,
and every cigarette you’ve breathed in and the virgin kisses you’ve stolen
The tears and heartbreaks and sweat and cries at the first thrust,
and beneath all that you’re pure,
it’s where your weakness lies.
You still dream of becoming beautiful one day
and full and rosy cheeked and hope that maybe someone like I will whisper your name
but all I do is devour and as I’m sating my appetite your eyes fade to grey
You’re pale now almost blue
And so much more like the creature you imagined
waited for you at the end of the tunnel but the light has gone out
the taste is fading and all that’s left is the sour
an empty vessel.


Ok look… I don’t usually write eroticism… but when I do there’s a lot of blood. 


Parasite (A love story)


[Sensitivity warning: contains strong language, slight gore, implied sex, suicide, angst material in general.] 

I see you coming.
Your figure blurred in the rain.
I’m lying in a pool of water down the street, wrapped in a white cloth.
Shaking from the cold.
The mere sight of me repulses you.
This pitiful creature once your enemy.
I sputter, my lips barely able to pronounce the words.
“Go away.”
But you won’t. Instead you pick me up, like a child.
Always such a goddamned hero. I clench my teeth.
“I hate you,” I whisper in your ear as you carry me home. Again and again. “I hate you. I hate you.” Either you’re not listening, or you do not care.

You lay me down on the couch to dry, like an old piece of wood. Feed me by force, not even trying to conceal the disgust on your face. You don’t want to touch me. Yet you cradle me like a baby. You loathe my whimpering, my apathetic stares. Still you can’t take your eyes off mine.

In the small hours of the night, I drift off to sleep in your arms. We share a pleasant dream about the sunflower fields of home. When I wake up I can taste sour metal in my mouth.
“Give me one reason not to blow your fucking brains out,” you whisper, standing above me. The hand with the gun is shivering. You have felt it. You know that I’m venomous.
So what should I say? I shrug. I don’t have an answer.
After a while you curse loudly, throw your weapon away and storm off into your room.
I don’t sleep much for the rest of the night.

Weeks pass by slowly. I cling to your presence, neglecting life. I refuse to eat, throw away most of the food you offer me and vomit up the rest. I starve, over and over. No matter. Only by staying this weak I can earn your pity. Only by remaining a ghost I can be allowed to live in you. By gaining access to your most cherished memories, I sate my own, painful incapability to feel. When using your emotions, I can remind myself of being human. It’s almost real.

The closer I come to your world, the weaker you become. You grow forgetful. Stop locking the doors after you. Almost as if you want me, as if you dare me to enter.
Just inside your bedroom, you’ve built a tower of empty liquid bottles. The poison is taking over your mind. I stay up all night, listening to you having nightmares. You writhe and moan among the sheets. There is nothing I can do to help. I know I’m making it worse by being here, curled up so close to your vulnerable heart. But I can’t stop. I’m high on the sensation of being alive again. Every night I crawl down beside you, enjoying the sensation of skin against skin. I am cold, cold as stone, while you are feverishly hot. I caress your veins slowly.

Who kissed first? No one would admit it, but once we’ve started we can’t stop. You press your body tight against mine and I drink your pain greedily. Entering a symbiosis of lust we give ourselves to each other, becoming one. I cry of pain, I cry for more. Our nest is covered in sweat and fear and passion and longing and when you call out my name it sounds like poetry.

I’m familiar with the ways of nature. I know the stronger host kills the weaker eventually. Hence I shouldn’t be surprised when I find you lying against the wall, bathing in crimson red. The wounds on your wrists are gaping hollow, smirking at me.
“How dare you?” I yell as I drag your lifeless body trough the corridor, leaving a thick trail of blood behind. “How very fucking dare you try yo leave me like that!” My fragile body fails me. My feet slip in the warm blood. I collapse on the floor.
“God damn you!”
I barely notice that I’m crying. This emotion thing must have gone too far. I shouldn’t bother. I shouldn’t fret. What is this, but a beautiful cage of flesh to mourn over? Another life claimed. Another death on my cursed existence. Not allowed to love, not allowed to feel for another.
And I do.

Such is the life of a parasite.

The inspiration for this came from a wonderful piece of fanfiction written by Thank you for letting me adapt your work, and I hope you like this.

Ps. This is fiction.