Fractured Pelvis: Sex & Repercussions

By Georgia Bowan

In the vast, grey, open water, we come together into a heap of thick black sludge. You and I are tied together with the eye splice knot hand tied by God. Your legs are clasped tightly around my waist and in this moment, I feel like a man. I am a man and I am making love to you. And then I say:

You don’t want me, you want to hurt me. You have very blue eyes.

You stand tall, run your hands over my body and creep in between my legs. The dark black Hole, twitching and twining in anticipation, pelvic bone juts out because it wants to be closer to your bladder. Again, and again, it’s becoming exhausting. I want to be near you. I want to be consumed and eaten in chunks. But I don’t want to be cold-black-dead-cunt.

All my friends leave me because they can’t control me. My family? Estranged, distorted and cut up into tiny bits. They couldn’t manage me and so they fractured. They became fissiparous. Mummy and Daddy fell apart many years ago. They finalised their parting recently. They finalised their parting recently. They finalised their parting recently. They would never say so, but I know. I broke them in half with my wickedness and my adolescent creeping and crawling and fucking and falling. This I know.

Nobody can control me because I have the rarest and most impressive power: I do not give one single fuck about anything or anyone, other than myself.

I am the worst woman known to the homo sapien earth crust: I don’t care about anything.

But I open up to (for) you (spreading). And now, you go go go up inside. You are looking for something (shiny gold disguised as muck). And you fuck me silly, slipping and sliding your cock inside until I stop making noise altogether. But this I know: you don’t want me at all, you want to hurt me altogether.

I fracture my birth givers’ eye splice knot. I fracture your pelvis because I’m out of control. I do not care about these things, but I do care about you.

You want to put your fingernails into my flesh, press down until you hit bone. I don’t want this. You don’t want me and I don’t want this. I don’t care about anything, but I do care about this. I do not want to be another martyr in your blood game. I do not want to be ravaged by the blue eyes. I do not want to fracture you like I fractured them.