healing of a masochist

the Blood smelled so good...

It wanted me to stop "being backwards": howling with grief at weddings,
skipping and singing about news of a genocide, creating new and newer scars all about every reachable crevice of my body (it was worth getting fat, so they'd be more to play with)
they cried and sent me away when i threw the new-born kittens into the water to hear the pitch of their mews, i was just five.
they asked It to teach me to "feel straight"



tied to the chair, It slammed a fist into my mouth again, angrier, ready to do it again as he watched my twisted face. 
haha, ho, no! not at all twisted!!
perfectly joyful, like a child licking iicing for the first time and giggling as the sugar tickled his taste buds is how i was hungrily licking and slopping the corners of my mouth and down the chin to get every last drop of treatie.

ummm, good god! what fun i was having!!

It grew tired of our game, i started to sniffle and whine for more, that seemed to piss It off enough to smack me out cold for three days.....



yes, brief, i know, but i just wished to explain to you why that will not work.
no sir, you'll not get the results you want.
haha!! It doesn't know you're here! nobody knows where you are!
tomorrow It'll find you and be so angry it'll have to show you off to those morgue things!!!
oh!oh! It'll be so angry! imagine what It'll do to me then!!?