Only Dead on the Outside

1 min read

Only Dead on the Outside

Which is surprising, all things considered.

This world went to shit a long time ago,

I just assumed feeling anything would have gone with it.

You, however, continue to stir something within my breast–

A yearning, a hunger.

I reach, wanting to bridge the gap between us,

furious that you recoil from my touch,

shuddering, visibly disgusted and horrified by

the intensity of my longing,

the moans issuing from my throat.

It’s not that I don’t understand your need for space,

but distance won’t make us stronger;

I weaken with each passing moment away from you.

Elation wells within me as you turn, finally realizing

with wide-eyed wonder that you and I are meant to be together

for eternity.

You stumble over a branch, I stumble over my words.

I cradle your head tenderly in my hands,

Feeling your eyes pulp beneath my thumbs

while I open your skull like a ripe pomegranate,

articulating my love with one simple word:


Written by Zane Cray

Life's trajectory will often steer us away from our intended destination, unceremoniously dumping us into the far reaches of parts unknown. Such was the case with Zane Cray, whose dreams of becoming an international male supermodel were shattered when he realized that poor life choices and a face made for radio had landed him a position as a letter carrier for the United States Post Office. Seventeen years later, he would rekindle his love of writing, which lay dormant in the shadow of his obsession with international stardom.

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