Updated: Feb 7
Because I incurred sexual trauma as a teenager, in my early 20's I turned sex into a game. It was an attempt to regain my power. I would no longer be the prey, I would be the predator. Mania can also cause 'Hyper-sexuality' and mixed with all the booze I was drinking, I had a manic blast (at times) going to bars and choosing one person to prey upon. This is a poem from that period of my life. Please read "The Aftermath (of the One Night Stand)" to follow up....
Ode to the One Night Stand
I once again believe that I am
a wolf in sheep's clothing, because they look at me like a lamb, So gentle and sweet — innocent and naive.
Yet, at night the sheep gather
and the wolves plan their feasts
I consume the sheep's carcasses as I go on my way of those who dared to approach and then could not escape. My teeth dipped in desire my urge to feast — With the prey to surround me I watch the great act, as the wolves try to feed and the sheep reel back. “Shhhh little sheep, come and play with me,” the lullaby of wolves of promises deep. With a sharp toothed grin I have the flesh of a lamb. While careful and cunning, I keep singing the song “Come and play with me, where the nights are long. Come and play with me little lamb and see that I’m not the bad wolf you believe me to be.” And done with precision and done with great tact I lure in the creatures I wish to attack. To feast on their flesh and drink from their veins, bleed into their bodies and melt into their stains. Licking the wounds of corralling a lamb. The warm salty sweat of my undying urge. The warm salty sweat where at last our souls merge. For hunger is hunger, and sheep ...Are just sheep. So goodbye to the one’s left limp on the bed wondering who the wolves were and where the wolves went. Goodbye to the strangers we meet in the night, the strangers who lure and capture our minds.