This · Love

I crawled back to his bed again last night. I couldn’t help myself, even if I wanted to I couldn’t. There’s this power that he has over me that pulls me ever closer into his spiders web. It was arming to feel his body curled up next to mine. It scares me sometimes that I walk in a continual contradiction of my own actions. As I mentioned before. I just want to mix him with the blood. That’s what gets me off the most.

Enough of this. day break has long since crept over my windowsill and the bed has became cold in my absence. I’ve been wandering through the Internet for hours it seems and I am hoping to get lost inside it. That would be something id find almost soothing. Don’t ask me too many questions about anything I may or may not say as I don’t have the answer’s myself. Just see these words as a take it or leave it kind of thing. Do with them what you will as I care not if I ever see you again. my apologies if these said things scare you. If so my advice is stop reading and walk away. If you are somewhat enthralled by the whole masquerade then please dear reader I pray you continue…

4:42. He should be home soon. I can tell as the feelings in my gut are starting to wrench inside me. My roots are showing through again. I need to take better care of myself but then again what’s the point if no one knows that you are even alive anymore…
I’m invisible you see. I could walk down the high street completely naked and no one would even look up from the ground. It’s raining again outside. This time the window isn’t veined like the unsaid part I mentioned earlier. Oh what a sight. He said he’d take me somewhere nice tonight as a way of an apology. So look nice for when I get home. Yeah right how can I look nice when the painful inkblots are still raw and I have bags beneath my eyes from lack of sleep and 2 week old roots which I haven’t been able to correct due to not being able to go out in public. People will ask too many questions about the marks on my skin and the redness around my wrists. It’s just another trick to humiliate me and destroy my esteem again. I know his games and I know all the pros and cons. I know that there are ways, in which I can fiddle the game and work my way out of playing, but I don’t, maybe I really am fucked up. I must be or I wouldn’t revel in the thought of such things…

Current Mood:	famished!
Current Music:	slipknot--wait and bleed

It’s been days. It’s almost calming now. Listening to the rain pattering and trickling down the windowpane. Wash away my sins wash away my sins wash away my sins…On and on and on. The bruise pristine doesn’t glow so much now. Speckled black bits all over. Tender. I always have to apologize for it though. Like it’s my fault I’m covered from head to toe in painful inkblots. I screamed really loud this time. Scared him away I think. He said I was hysterical.
That’s when he realized how scary it had all been for me. It was no walk in the park I can tell you that. Yet scary isn’t what I’d call it. It scares me sometimes that I almost borderline crave for it. Like an addict scratching and their veins for heroine I scratch at the surface of his temper for the rush I receive when the game turns to violence. It’s almost addictive and I don’t think I can help myself. It’s the same as sex. I want to fuk him all day long till I bleed inside. I wanna be raped by him and have him unleash himself inside me. Mix the sperm with the blood. It’s an image I relish. I know he won’t. I wish he would. Maybe then I might have the guts to leave and not come back, but just like he wont ever rape me and give me the scars I crave for I will never leave him. Reason being that I enjoy walking the knife-edge that is our relationship. I don’t know why I feel this way all the time I question my sanity every now and then but get bored with myself and give up.
The rain seems to have died down now. The window is all veined and wet like his cock almost. I’m thinking about it again. I can’t stop. My knee hurts real bad. It must have taken a hit when I plummeted to the floor. It gets me every time how I insist that I deserve it and it’s my fault that he looses it with me and that I love him regardless. Even though I’m saying all of this I know that I will never do anything about it. I’m too weak. I always have been. Simpering one might even say. He sleeps now. Who knows tomorrow I may find someone who’s eyes meet mine and who’s heart jumps in time with my own. My soul mate. Yeah right. Who the fuk am I trying to kid here. I have found my soul mate and he’s upstairs right now asleep in our bed which is where ill undoubtedly crawl myself when sleep takes me. I know he’s my soul mate because his soul is as black as mine and our heads are equally as fuked up. Don’t you just hate that? If I should die before I wake I pray you Baby my soul to take! And if I wake before I die poison me with your smile…yours forever Adrienne

Current Mood:

sleepy