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maybe I am the problem. No. I know I am the problem, and I cannot change it, I cannot fix it, I can only live with it.
If you give a flower too much water, you'll drown it. And I feel like I'm drowning. My pot is spilling over taking the soil with me.
Revenge is a sick form of poetry and can be performed in many ways. I guess this is not the prettiest form, but nothing about me or my life ever has been. I have been exposed to so much ugliness that I'm not even sure what pretty is meant to look like. My mind has been permanently damaged. I’ve been programmed to feed off the abominable, absorb pain and let it drown me, pull me under and fill my lungs.
“You don’t get it do you? There isn’t. If it means I have to set this house ablaze with both of us in it to ensure you suffer with me in hell, don’t think I won't. You are going down with me like you should have done eleven fucking years ago. Now Sit!”
The mind is a powerful thing. I had kept myself stable for so long, even when I wanted to let go and fall into my own head I refused to ruin my goal. But now it’s finally time to let go. Sanity was never my goal.
He’s staring into the face of a woman he stole from, and I wish I could frame the terror in his eyes and put it on my wall. It’s like his bad dreams have finally come to life, a movie of his forgotten past replaying on a broken tape, as I glare through him with years of haunting pain. He already knows there is no way out of this by the way his Adam's apple bobs, disappearing into the rapid heartbeat beneath his chest. “Surprise…”
I t looks like he has so much to say but I’ve sucked the life from him and it’s fucking beautiful. Fear is its own font of beauty that I have fallen in love with.
There is just something about someone staring death in the face that makes my eyes fight to not roll into the back of my skull. It’s exhilarating. Knowing their life is in the palm of your hands and they either breathe oxygen or choke on their own innards by your choice and your choice alone. It’s power. Power that I crave, power that I drown in. Power that I was deprived of for so long while underneath the very people who claim they do good in the world and keep women and children safe.
“He was no man. He was the Devil. And I pray that when I leave this god forsaken piece of shit we call earth, that he is in hell, waiting for me so I can kill him again.”
The only kindness I give to the world is eradicating the sickness that's poisoned it, which still results in me taking lives and paying the consequences. Kindness never got me fucking anywhere but hurt. Kindness only granted me pain.
I’m a piece of rope, torn between empathy and rage. Seeing the good in people never got me anywhere yet I still do it, and I'm doing it now.
Even on death's door I am still seeking redemption in evil when evil does not deserve forgiveness. People choose to be evil yet I find myself sympathising with the devil, trying to find a reason as to why. What hurt them? What pain did they suffer? Were they just born this way? Sadness. I had never known the full extent of its wrath until this very moment, as I lay here letting it consume my every breath, every good memory, filling it only with a dull ache. This dull ache that's tearing me apart. I've never experienced grief and it's not at all what I expected. Mourning for an apparition
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She is a book with empty pages, but I'm a book with a plain cover and thousands of unspoken words inside which she is clearly reading.
She will never forgive me. I know that. I don’t want her to. I’m selfish. I’m as selfish as they fucking get, and I will save her ass just to kill her again if I have to. Whatever this is eating her alive is taking my kill. She is mine to kill. I didn’t do all this shit for something to wipe her out for me. I want to watch her bleed for me, I want to take her last breath.
She can’t just give the fuck up and take the easy road. She needs to see how ugly the road full of potholes are, where you puncture a tire and you swerve off track. Where it almost kills you and you get the fuck up and get back behind the wheel again. Where you face danger head on and you don’t cower.
“Nothing about me is Kind. You think me feeding you and keeping you breathing is for your benefit? Keep seeing the good in people and watch where it gets you. You're a body bag. My plaything. I take great pleasure in keeping you alive because I know how desperately you want to die,”
keeping a bed warm for someone who should be buried in my back garden.
The things I had to suffer to get to this point I would only wish on people just as sick and twisted as him. I am that wish. But I am not him. Children and women beaters hide amongst a society that covers them up because they raise money for charity and sit on wads of cash. Someone's gotta fucking do it. My consequences are just my count down with a broken clock. I don't know when that will be but when it happens, a bullet will find a home inside my chest where it belongs.
She has me all wrong and I want so desperately to show her that I'm not one of them but I see the Devil in me every day.
I'll do far more than kill her, I'll bury myself 6ft inside her and listen to her beg for her fucking life as she makes our grave.
“So who was protecting you?” She hits me with a question I wasn't prepared for. Downing my poison to calm the internal rage spreading through the cracks in my skin. “The demons in my head Innocence.” No one was protecting me. I had to learn to turn it all off. If you can’t feel, nothing can hurt you.
She whispers so calmly every nerve ending in my body is trying to burst out my skin. “And don’t miss.” My grip tightens along with every muscle in my body. She says it as if, if I were to mess this up, I’d suffer for it. “I want it messy. I want you to watch me bleed out slowly. Innocence. I want it to hurt.”
“If you really want out, Little Dreamer. It's simple… Pull the trigger.” She clasps the barrel pressed firmly against her head, tilting it to align with her chest, holding it hostage against her heart. “All it takes is one biggggg squeeze… And you are free.
Free to live your life as you wish. In fact, I urge you to do it Alora. Because if you don't. I will find you, in every village, town, city and I will not stop until we are this close again because you -” I'm sensing raw pain in her vocals and I don’t even think I want her to finish that sentence. “Are. My. OXYGEN.”
I will haunt your nightmares and plague your pure little mind until the only thing you long for, IS ME…”
After today. It changes everything. And her terrible attempt at escaping was just a ploy to make me give her what she wanted. I've given her so many subtle signs that I yearn for her beneath me and my corruption is slowly seeping into her vulnerable bones.
There's nothing to run to. She's become my safety blanket and it's so wrong, but her venom is flooding my cold veins.
All I wanna do is show her my anger. Make her afraid of me. She is no longer trembling in my space. I gripped her wrist so hard I could have snapped it and she just stood there and took it. I need to punch these demons out of me before they try to inhabit themselves inside of her.
“You're crazy.” Nevermind. “And you're Mine.” That slips from my mouth and I even surprise myself, I've never called anyone mine, but I don't mean Love. I mean Possession. I want to possess and corrupt every part of her. I turn to face her and she's adjusting her top.
She calms the demons inside of me and makes me view the world differently when I'm around her. Colours look brighter. Time starts moving. Messy is where she should be. This free-spirited girl in front of me, thriving on the smallest thing fuels my guilt. I’m holding up a mirror with no centre piece. She’s always been a prisoner.
I’ve never desired anyone the way I do her and it’s becoming a weakness untold. She is the noose around my neck and I am terrified that if she said jump. I would. Is it normal to yearn for someone so much that you quiver at the mere sight of them in your head?
She tugs it a little more letting it smash on the tiled floor, shattering like my patience as I clench my jaw, kissing my teeth before storming over towards her. My boots crush the glass underneath my feet until the palm of my hand finds her throat, lifting her off the floor until her bare ass meets the counter, tilting my head as I stare through her challenging eyes. She’s suddenly grown some balls and my plan is working, but she’s asking for something her fragile little mind can’t handle yet. I’d rip her to shreds, but I’m not opposed to teasing the idea. Let's test it shall we?
She will come undone for me and I will take great pleasure in feasting on her demons.
“Let me taint your pretty little mind with thoughts only the devil could deem acceptable.”
How her resistance makes me hate myself for craving attention so toxic, so damaging yet she is the thing keeping me alive. She is like water. Something so capable of killing you, drowning you until your heart stops beating, but you need it to survive. I need her to survive.
how much I desire to sin for her, defy god and worship the devil for her, obey her every command for her, unwrap all my layers of insecurities and make me trust completely in her, say words only to fuel my submission for her, corrupt my imagination for her.
“Monsters are real Puppet. But luckily you have one who’d kill for you.”
I never stopped to admire the beauty life captures when you're not looking. How it grows and is constantly changing. You cannot grow if you're stuck in time dwelling on shit that cannot be changed. This? This can be changed. And suddenly I'm ready to sacrifice everything I have to be by her side until the day I leave this god forsaken world.
I’ve found peace in circumstances that were meant to kill me, in pain and sorrow, in ruin and destruction I’ve found a new lease of happiness where I am no longer afraid of living. I’m suddenly afraid of dying and I hope that I find death before she does because I fear an empty hollow world without her in it. Now I finally understand what it means to find an entire universe in one person.
I didn’t understand at first, why I had this urge to keep my feet on the ground, why I couldn’t let go. Let her go. But now I get it. I’m so stupidly in Love with her, I'll go to the ends of the earth just to give her everything I never had. Even if I don't know how, I'll learn. If I don’t fit, I'll adapt. I’ll mould myself into the person she needs me to be if it means I get to see the world and grow old with her. I thought I was incapable of Loving anyone.
