Every now and again life will grab me by the throat and toss me around like dirty laundry. I can't stand it when I feel so useless and wrong. I wake up from a daze feeling grimy and full of sh*t. I shower but cannot be cleansed. I scrub relentlessly with a brillo pad soaked through in acid. Feeling the skin peel away. No tears. No pain. Just feeling this gentle tugging motion as the thick chunks of hide fall to the floor. She walks in and screams at the sight. Disgusted and horrified she screams uncontrollably. Her eyes don't see, she's already blocked out the vision. She can't see the way I've ripped away my protective shield exposing my insides. Open wide sores asking to be infected. She won't let herself see how my milky-white bones look under this fake fluorescent lighting. How they dully reflect this unreflective light. How the yellowish tendons grab onto the muscle and bone. She's still screaming, expecting me to do something. She's terrified down to her little red and white polka dot panties. She starts to cry.
Standing there bleeding at her. How could I start without her. The death trip has become our sex. Ripping myself apart for her. Getting off on her horror. Every now and again, I scream back at her. Every now and again she kneels down and licks the blood off my hands.
Notes:
As if I could say anymore.
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