I want to hurt you, but I don't know if it's okay. You don't belong to me. This internal struggle grows, gnawing at the edge of every thought running around my chaotic mind. I want to own you and make you mine, no matter how fleeting that moment may be. For that single moment, you would be completely MINE.
To collar you, to bind you, to bite you, mark you.
An imprint.
But I cannot.
I cannot take from someone so elusive, someone so agile and quick to back away. I cannot trust that you'll stay, that you will return. I want to trust you, but I won't. I have learned my lessons from many years of naiveté. I have refused myself the privilege of trust. I'm gleeful and giddy at the thought of capturing you... The question, however, truly lies in your desires.
Is it MY touch you want? Is it MY words you search? Is it ME you crave?
I can see faint glimpses flash in your eyes as we tease. But I need more than that.
I'm shy to ask for more, and afraid that I'll destroy. I'm very good at stabotaging my own plans. An emotional masochist, if you will. I'm afraid of myself. Afraid that if permission were granted, I wouldn't stop. The dam would break and every disgusting desire would be unleashed. Flooding you, drowning you, overwhelming you.
Pushing you away.
So I hold myself back. Trapped in the midst of a war-ravaged battleground of everything within. I have become a caged beast bashing myself against the barricades. Bloodied and angry. Raw. Hungry. Alone.
...and scared.
Please don't let me out. Please leave me in my pain, allow me to be my own masochist. Because once I'm your sadist, I won't stop. I won't be satisfied until I have it all.
Until you are completely mine.
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