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A woman’s heart isn’t meant to be toyed with. Once touched, it has the power to level cities, make happy homes turn to dust, and obliterate a man’s ego.
All the crazy ones have the best dicks. It’s science.
When you really love people, you deal with their dirt and let it become you.
“Death will find you faster than pleasure, pretty girl.”
The idea of dying together brings me some strange nostalgic lust.
I’ve already survived the worst of Montana. But the question remains; can she survive the worst of me?
I see it so clearly; this depraved soul I’ve carved and molded from the abandonment of my love.
“I wanted him to touch you, just like the men before him. I hunger for hands on you and your body. I long for it, so I can fucking obliterate them for touching what’s so clearly mine,”
When you’re dirtied by the mud of trauma, even a slight rain feels momentous.
She stares, dumbfounded by my actions, before her lip tilts up in the faintest of grins, amused by my chaos; delighted by my demons. She’s never looked more mine.
When the black void drowns you, you can only find breath in brutality…”
killing is a copout, and raw torture is an art form that brings consistent peace to a chaotic soul.”
“Every story told has the potential to withhold truth, and yet, every conspiracy has the capability to hold weight. It's up to the minds of the mad to imagine the unimaginable in order to save the naivety of the sane.”
It’s messy, built on lies and a foundation of mistrust, yet when we’re together, something deeper within ourselves seems to stir in our souls—restless if not with each other, riotous when we are.
my sick and distorted psyche now craves his obsession. Without it, I’m lost.
“Bury me, Venom. Bury me so deep I can breathe again.”
Understanding tangles us again, twisting the guarded hearts we both possess.
“Don’t play games with a guy like me. I’ll fuck you right here on this bike in the middle of the intersection. Let the traffic watch as I destroy that pretty pussy.”
It’s unhinged, it’s merciless, it’s destructive, and it’s so fucking attractive to finally see in a man.
My beautifully broken girl.
“You are the darkness that I want to wear proudly.”
“You gonna be a good boy for me?” I ask, rolling my hand up the soft, taut flesh. “The best boy.” He swallows. “I’ll be whatever you want as long as I’m yours.”
I crave his depravity, his soulless being, and that darkness that I’ve conjured within him.
“Whatever fractures of a heart I have left are yours, Montana,”
“It’s the slow decay of hope that kills the living, not the beasts subjecting us to their bite.”
It’s only the living who can bring retribution to the dead, honoring their lives, cementing their stories and never letting their memories die.
