[Cereal_Killer]

The Story Teller and the Interpretation Beast VOL. I

The Swollen Fox

A VERY HUNGRY FOX, seeing some bread and meat left by shepherds
in the hollow of an oak, crept into the hole and made a hearty
meal. When he finished, he was so full that he was not able to
get out, and began to groan and lament his fate. Another Fox
passing by heard his cries, and coming up, inquired the cause of
his complaining. On learning what had happened, he said to him,
"Ah, you will have to remain there, my friend, until you become
such as you were when you crept in, and then you will easily get
out."

I can hear my heart darting hard through the fine scar
Tissue of my past, each time I’m behind a mark.
A faceless portrait that has been masked, by the shards
Of shadows produced from the stars glass like, light bars.
Following life, wallowing right in the darkness,
Like a great white shark, that is set for its targets
Carcass. I embark hells path in a hand basket
Of harshness. Growing more erect as her scent sharpens.
I bet that she’s wet and now ready for my harvest.
So I lunge….
and take what I want….
Consequences mean nothing!


15 years earlier

A confused young boy sits stunned and induced in class,
Sexually amused by the skirt, fused to her ass.
Gasping in anticipation just like the last
Girl, sitting with her slit facing his hidden crude laugh.
This unfitting new love has taken full control.
He drools on the table, watching his dreams unfold.
Her soft crossed legs, sticky from her old sweat upholds
And maintains a fantasy, for him to behold.
Flesh caressing flesh, they separate for a sec-
Breaking enough light in, so his sight can be blessed
With her wet white panties, fighting to stay in place.
They have moved slightly inside of her, from the way
She has made and arranged herself into her seat.
His enlarged heart beats up his chest making him weak
Minded, only thinking about sex and that leak
Of trickling clear discharge, that had managed to seep
Just for him to see, maybe it was meant to be.


Ready for his next lesson he floats towards the stairs
Hopelessly he glares, at this freshmen’s underwear,
Guessing she’s unaware, how severely he stares
At her cotton full briefs reading, handle with care.
No longer can he bare the pressure that drenches him,
Fencing him inside his own skin, like a prison.
He breaks down his cell and excels up with no brakes,
Placing his hand on the bait, he hastily scrapes
Her untainted soft space, for a smell or a taste.
Crazed and in rage she turned and then spat in his face
Screaming “RAPE”, as she escaped down the hall,
Physically unscathed, except the stains on her wall
Where he broke her fate.

He collapses in his place…

When he awakes, he prays it was just a nightmare
Of a mistake he could make, but nope it’s right there
In his face. His disgrace already spread like hares.
Everywhere he looked, he saw this hate and despair.
This lack of caring, for his right to breathe fresh air.
But wait!
He has one last chance to help him change straight,
By making this mess he’d made, clean up and vacate.
The Principal could sway this demeaning display
Of shame, that the kids seem to place, onto his frame.
Drained and looking decayed, he fades through the office
To beg someone to stop this pain, he gets often.
The Principal Pauses

I don’t think I can help.
I’m sorry Peri, you’ll have to fix this yourself.


TOPIC:
1. Turn the other cheek