#2

3 L-o-v-e 3

Mine-

Softer skins are made for kinder people. For carresses and soft touches meandering through days of lazing together forgetful of all hibitions and self conscience desires. To be nurtured and care for one another, to worry when we hurt. They brake and bleed and never quite heal. Leaving pinker softer flesh marred by innosence and naivety. Small barely sustained marks. Eventually they will heal with proper care and disapear. Maybe later to reapear and destroy you yet again.

We didn’t make love or have sex. Such words do not carry the connotation of what it was we did. They do not give the mind images of tearing and bleading. You have no mind for screams and clawing while using words like making love or having sex. They seem so impersonal or too personal. What we did had nothing to do with being closer or affection. It was not a way for us to demonstrate our adoration of each other.

We fucked each other. Truly even this word does not illustrate it correctly. It was more like volentary rape. We wanted to destroy each other. To shred our realities and make us nothing more than wimpering piles of used and wonton flesh. What we did left true marks. Scars that were never pink but moved from infested scabbed over leaking wound to white light scar packed into cuchioning tissue.

over and over and over

You smiled when I told you. That little smile you get when I’m being sentimental or gushy. Being too much a girl for your tastes. Your lips tilted and for a second I hated you so much. I wanted to fuck you like a savage beast. I wanted to make you bleed and scream and I wanted you to beg for mercy. I wanted it so much. To torture you and leave my mark. Just so that when time from now someone else lifts off your clothes and they KNOW that you are used goods. Abused toys.

My heart is a parasite and you were my cardiac tumor slowly squeezing and constricting my parasite. Wrapping and sliding with the efficiency of a cold snake. Making it better and validating my hatred. Nurturing my rage. Giving me my lusts for what I want and where I will take it.

I would love you if I didn’t.

With all of my hate,

yours.