That's me!

I write on here because no one reads it.  But it's a way of staying accountable in a strange way. Because as self-aware as I am, I'm terrible at doing anything about it. I lack accountability. This year I've tried to cut out so many people from my life.  And I've failed each time. These people don't bring me happiness for very long. They're life suckers. Creatures of connivence. They hold no love, no respect for me, but I'm loyal to them. I'm not sure why. History? Perhaps, it's the history that I have trouble letting go of. Another aspect is that I always doubt what I feel, I think the whole world has raped the "sensitive woman" to death. Am I being reasonable or hysterical? I can never tell. So I invite these hoe bags into my life over, and over again. I wish I'd stop. Wish I had the back bone in me to stand up to it. Wish they'd disappear on me. It fills me with glee, when I think one of them has dropped off the face of the planet. I never have to deal with them again. It's a relief. Then they crawl back in of course. Over and over again. I hope this block of text is hard to read, for whoever (loser) stumbles across this. Fuck off. 

Well.

What does it mean that I want to be hurt? Desperately mangled, broken and consumed. Ravaged, pillaged, every bone broken…raped. I want the life in be to be sucked out and to be left hollowed and aching.

I want you to physically hurt me the way you emotionally destroyed me. Outside to match the insides.

I want it to be you who shoves your cock in me, with only my cries of approving-disapproval. Grip my hair, call me a useless whore until I believe you. Abuse every hole and the holes you’ve left in my mind. Hurt me.