my blog is a safe space for me. the rest of you are in danger i think

No I don’t want to ‘get off’ to hearing your past trauma. I want to traumatise you. I want to be the reason you feel disgusting every time you’re aroused. I want to be the sole abuser in your life. I don’t want to hear what others have done to you. Let me create the memories you feel sick about. Let me be the one who haunts you. Let my hands be the ones you can feel all the time no matter how hard you scrub at your skin; let my violent touch cling to you as if it was always there. That is what I want. And it doesn’t fucking matter if you want something else.

Imagining that I stab you, just enough to weakened you. Watch as you run, growing more and more sluggish before collapsing to the ground. Approaching you, knife in hand. For you to struggle to crawl away, your little whimpers echoing through the void of darkness. My boot punting your rib cage, forcing you onto your back before lowering myself above you. The terror in your eyes as I admire your helpless shape. The cold metal pressed against your throat, your trembling body giving way beneath me. My callous hand forced into your pants, my fingers driving so hard into you that I can’t tell which hole the blood is seeping from. Watching you fade to unconsciousness, only to wake stitched up and prepped for round two.