Night Thoughts

tjueni - he says that he loves me

He says that he loves me but he freaked out when I told him I want to be thrown against the walls and beaten up to death as he whispers into my ears that he owns me.                                                                          He'd give me a lesson and would ask me if I'm okay, if my brain was ok. And if I had to be honest I'd still lie and laugh through the rivers escaping my eyes. Dark, dark rivers...

He said that he loves me but when I gave him my own blood in the small bottle attached as a necklace he threw it away and screamed into my face that I was a whore and then I wondered what did I do wrong to deserve this nightmare?                                                                                                                                                              He would never listen of me speaking passionately about my dreams and desires in which I cut my own legs apart from my body and chuckle, he was I need help and maybe I do.                                                                           I picked up dead flowers just to give him a bouquet with a small paper on which I wrote how I truly felt about him, little does he know that those flowers are just like my heart feels when I have to be alone.
And now I'm alone as he left, scared for his life because 'I didn't love him the right way'.
I fell into confusion.

He said he wants me but when I told him how I want to be fucked he said he's not ready and so I sighed remembering  the days when, even if I'd beg him to stop he'd still do it  on me, all over and over again.         
And oh! How I love him...

I love him like he loves the moon and the clear sky and how he loves his own dog, but to be honest I wouldn't be surprised if he'd kill it.

I love him with all my strong intentions and as I give my body and soul to him he penetrated into my skin and left me hanging on a cliff, on the edge.                                                                                                                                 And no one ever believed me. No one ever believed me as I talked about how traumatic he was to me, how many things he did to me that I myself never thought of.                                                                                                And all that just because I cut the open wounds already and let my blood boil under the summers sun.

He said he loves me but when I spray painted my face with his own blood he winced in pain and left.                
I hate being alone. I hate him.