I gently touch your face, drawing my finger down your chin.

Delicate and fragile.

I pull my hand away and draw it tightly back, and a sharp hint of violence clawed its way up my spine.

Digging deep into me.

My fisted hand shakes and running alongside, yet falling behind my violence, is the fear of hurting you.

You turn away to smile out the window and my breath catches with the flashing images of breaking the clean glass with your head and staining it red.

What is happening to me?

I want nothing more than to break you and make you bleed.  My ears ache for what I can only imagine as your screams and strangled cries.

You say something and I am deaf.

All I see is your flesh spread along the shiny serrated edge of a knife.

I swallow but to no avail of pushing this...need...away.

It pains me to not hurt you.

And so I do, with a trick of gentle caring, I draw your face to my chest, gripping the back of your head tenderly.  Stroking your hair and I hear you sigh. 

Oh my sweet lover.

How beautiful you will be with a contorted face and the burn against the blood in your eyes.

Oh merciful God, forgive me for the sin that I am about to commit.  Forgive my ugly soul and take my hand in death and draw me to the gates of Heaven.  Throw away what I am about to do and present me the gift of a life in your kingdom high above the minds of the disbelieving.

And with a gentl loving kiss upon the crown of your head, a caring touch to your soft neck (all lies of course) I take your face and slam it into the window pane.  With all the fiery anger and delicious taste of the need to cause pain upon my tongue, it felt as if sliding naked into a silk dress. 

Your face through the glass.

So easy and so gentle and I cannot hear the shatter.

And I am not satisfied.

Not satisifed with the disbelief, pain, and betrayel in your eyes.

Not satisified with the diamond like glitter of the glass in your hair as I grind your head into the shards that did not fall onto the grass lawn below.

Not satisfied wtih your pathetic whimpers beaneath my hand as I take the biggest piece of glass and draw and drag and drag it across your closed eyes (not closed for long however). 

Is it because you do not struggle?

Is the pain of all my lies leaving you stiff and prostate?

Stifled noises as I beat a rhythm of something animalistic into the floor with your bloody head.

Satisfy me you stupid whore!

I wipe frantically at the tears rolling down my face, this is not working at all.

Oh, I've never hated you as much as I do now.

I catch my reflection and the blood on my face.

I see you on the floor and there is a gurgle from deep inside you.

I give you a kick and the noise stops and you are actually uglier with a broken face.

I'm so disappointed in you lover, and as I pull at your hair and you emit no response I realize that I must find someone to whet my appetite to find satisfaction for this.

I push you away.

What a mess.

But I smile and feel God smile back upon me.


The End.
What I Want From You
        by: V