Want. 

My lungs burn. Bursting. I can’t stop now.Pound the earth. Left right left right left right.

If I stop now I’ll die.

Inside. Clothes off. Shower.

Soap suds heavy on my legs. Razor scraping blunt on my cheek. Chin. Throat.

That salty taste on my tongue.

Mine or …

Waves rushed around me, in my ears, my mouth. Stinging my eyes.
 

She had been so…

Mine. She’d been mine.

For a while.

If I scrub hard enough. Bleed enough. Stop breathing long enough – it’ll end. Won’t it?

We hadn’t meant for this to go as far as this.

Everything stings. Is putrid. Stinks.

Stinks like rotting flesh. Gouged maggot invested.

It’s all inside me – this vile urge to possess.

To own.

To twist.

I can stop it.

I can.

I don’t have to do it again.

I do.

I will.

I want it.

I can’t stop.

Spots dance before my eyes and I twist more.

The sting. The power. The cries.

God it turns me on. I am invincible.

 

She loves it. She says so.

In that gasping way of hers she begs me to do it.

And I do. Every time I do it until she screams.

I scream.

My lungs burn. Stabbing pain.

Left right left right left right.

Till it sears.

Till the screams stop.
  

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