rosa never dies | fiction writing

I wouldn't mind a hug or a kiss, but don't promise to die for me. I won't do the same. I won't love you if you asked me to, I couldn't. If you hurt me, it's okay. Break my bones and tug at my hair. Push me and shove me. Hit me on the head so hard that my teeth caves in or falls off. Cut me up, at the same places... and then repeat. Blow me up, why don't you? Tear my mouth - make sure my lips split open like how freshly cut fruit would. It's so nice to feel the warmth of your angst. I can feel it in every breath you take. The chill of your spine as you wish for my death. When you press your fingers against my hips I don't know whether to heave or weep. Why don't you add a little more pressure? Don't be shy, destroy me. I can feel the passion. And when you interlock your fingers with mine, I thought, I've never held hands with such hurt. Whatever you do just don't tell me off or reject me. Scratch me up and screw me over, just don't insult me. You don't have to say a word.