string zero

why settle for just a single cut from my wrist to the back of my elbow?

im not emo, im metal…

i wont hurt myself, youve done that too many times to be considered often. i wont cry for this, youve made me shed too many tears for those i left, lost, gave away for you. i wont think about staying with you forever after this night, ive been thinking that youll only end my belief in the existence of “eternity”.

tell you what, how bout i come to your place, lets say, about a quarter to midnight. just when you check all your windows and doors. locked. secure. but, you wont notice me inside your house. ill be waiting inside the closet, where you keep your clothes – cotton, silk, leather. and when you open the door in front of me, ill see you fresh from your midnight wash, steaming and perhaps sweating? then, youll probably open your mouth to let out a scream. oh, no, you wont. theres a reason why ill be bringing used socks. ill clump them together, tightly, about the size of your mouth when you say “oh” just before taking his penis inside it. that should keep you quiet. well, not exactly. just enough so that only i could hear your sweet groans. knives? blades? hell, no. i couldnt ride a damn bus if i had them. hmmm, metal string? oh, yes. number 3 string for the guitar. yes, i, too, play the guitar, like him, but i play it far differently. he plays it to woo you, to sweep you off your feet. i play it so the skin just above my right nails peel off. it gets messy, specially when i peel the skin off, one time, i swear, i saw the bone. but, enough digression! that string would be a lot of help for me. id use it to tie you to bed. you naughty, naughty girl. it wouldnt be him that you’d be tying down, and you wont feel pleasure out of this. well, if you are masochistic, id say you would. you REALLY would. i’d tie you up so tight that one single move would slice open your skin. dont think about cutting your hand free, the strings cut, but come on, they cant possibly cut bone, can they? no, i thought so, i tried it once, it didnt work. god, i get so carried away most of the time. i’d save one special string for you, dear… the last string. string 0. the thinnest string, the sharpest one. id use this to puncture a little hole just above your stomach, slide it inside, but not too much, just enough to touch your intestines. then id slide it downwards until it makes another hole below your navel. isnt this nice? its a big pierce, if you ask me… and then, id pull both ends up. by laws of physics – if i applied the right amount of anger, that is – it would create a clean incision, exposing your insides… very nice, i can imagine it now… pink, violet, blue, red, black… oh, were all so colorful inside. i just love color, dont you? i love it so much, i want to share what id see to you. id turn my index finger into a hook and id anchor it into one convolution, then id pull it hard. from this little piece of you, id pull and pull and pull until nothing is left in your belly, it would be fun if youre still breathing when i yank your stomach off. by then, id still see your heart beating. for love, was it? what you wrote on his notebook? really, now? i dont like that idea, its so passe that kind of language makes me want to puke. i dont like the feeling of wanting to puke, so ill end it by then. my hand would penetrate your chest through the hole on your torso, ill search for that beating piece of shit, grab it. ill look you in the eyes, smile as i softly squeeze your heart til he ceases to be the reason.

when will i do this? i dont know, perhaps after ive seen you with my bestfriend, again. naked in his room.

he’s mine, whore. i wont let you taint my dreams with him.

im not emo, im metal…


~ by saikow on March 7, 2007.

One Response to “string zero”


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