Work Text:
A heat of Pain
Passion. Pain. Agony. Lust. All words melting into symphonies of a searing anguish of destructive nature to fill the void of a need. The need to have your existence seen as a play. An act. A lie. A falsehood. The need to exist only for others. The destructive and beautiful desire and need of being perceived as that of a porcelain doll, fragile and beautiful.
Cracks.
Lines.
Searing marks across beautifully pale skin becoming more and more on show as the time marches on by past the present, into a future filled with regrets and the birth of more lines of beauty.
Every stolen breath turns upon deaf ears as the scene turns from a domestic scene of admiration to that fuelled by lust, desperation and desires to forget. Hands grabbing, pulling, squeezing, groping anything they can with knowledge of that this will never last. The face behind the searing heat pooling looks on blankly above the disgusting, filthy lowlife that was desperate enough to help and encourage such destructive behaviour. At least this time the ceiling is very pretty, unlike the environment, the destructive heat of pain and passion become unbearable soon, the agony of the sensation almost enough to make any sane person stop and want to tear the skin away from the bone.
With the tearing of the skin away from pain would most likely be less antagonising that the slowly pitiful bath afterwards in solitude. Ever thought obsessing over the disgusting nature of being like this over anything else. Addicted. Obsessive. Plagued by hands of past actions. Hands grabbing everywhere they were upon the broken, damaged doll they desperately wanted to have even once. For every pathetic attempt to forget even for a short while another group of cracks break out on the expanse of porcelain skin, for every cracks the sickly pale porcelain canvas becomes stained with shocking and yet comforting crimson curvatures.
In a place of pure dissociative pleasure comes forth the praise for dealing so well by others because cope with being hypersexual as someone seen as a woman is seen as feminism and not self-destructive on its own. But hey, at least its only sex and not drugs, alcoholism, burning, cutting, smoking, stealing, lying, anything taboo for a ‘woman’ to do to cope.