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“I love you,” is whispered by a mouth far too ugly and twisted to form such beautiful words. “I love you,” is whispered by a mouth I only see in mirrors. My lips are chapped. Yours are so lovely.
My hands are so ugly. Revolting. Disgusting. And yet you allow my touch upon your skin. Your perfect skin, shining in the sun like a gemstone. Touched by my hands, my fingertips. My nails, uneven and bitten with dirty blood underneath. My skin flakes and falls and tears off. My knuckles are white and clammy. I touch you. You don’t move away.
When you touch my face, your hands are rough. I can feel every callous. That is how close you are. Your thumb lingers on my lip. You’re not scared of my teeth. Teeth that could rip it off. Teeth that could rip you up. You say, “Kiss me,” so adoringly. You say it to me.
And when my mouth, my bestial maw, brushes against yours, even as you feel those teeth and that tongue, you don’t pull away. You don’t look away. You touch me. You kiss me. I feel like I’m eating the sun. You’re so warm. I’m so selfish. I want to steal it.
“I love you,” you say with a mouth that is perfect and bewitching. With a mouth that is meant for beautiful words. You say it to me. You say it to me.
I feel my sand melt in your sun. You drown me in myself until I become glass. Beautiful, delicate glass. But you don’t drop me. You tell me, “You were always beautiful.” I believe you.
You lied to me. You lied to me. You lied to me when you said those beautiful words. You lied to me.
Why do you reject my hands? Why do you reject the hands you have held and called so pretty? The hands you held to your face and kissed? Why do you reject my lips? The lips you touched yours to? The lips you licked and the lips you bit?
Even as I break, shattering, shards gliding along the floor and sparkling in the light, you won’t touch me. Even as the glass falls from my eyes, shimmering and vibrant and liquid, you won’t touch me. You hate me. I was never beautiful. You lied to me.
I am every bit of the monster you told me I was not. But I don’t care. I’m selfish. I’m greedy. I’ll take you. I’ll defile you. My ugly hands, my ugly lips, my ugly, ugly heart. I’ll defile you. I will not let you go. I will make you love me. I will make you love me so dearly that I will be the only word upon your tongue.
I will defile you until you want and know nothing but me. Nothing but my sickly skin. Nothing but my bloody hair. Nothing but my sleepless eyes. Nothing but my hands, teeth, and lips.
Why did you give in to me? Why did you ever let me believe in love? Why did you ever let me feel so wonderful? It’s your fault. You made me like this. You showed me something beautiful and captivating and then you hid it away. You’re also cruel. You’re so cruel for showing me bliss and then taking it away.
You deserve this. It’s your fault. You wanted this. You want this. You want me. You want me to take you and steal you and claim you. You want me to play the awful and horrid creature. You want me to lock you away.
You are delicate, fine gold. You are a molten crystal. You need protection. Shade. Cold. You are the sun and you are your own downfall. You need something ugly like me to keep you solid. You were so cunning to put me here. You are so cunning and so cruel for placing me here.
But that’s okay. Because this is what we want. What we need. I need you, my beauty and my life. And you need me. Your shadow and your cage.
I’ll break and melt and break and melt until my soul is lost and I am nothing but cruelty. I’ll do it all for you. I’ll be glass, I’ll be sharp, I’ll be a weapon, and I’ll be reusable.
I’ll be all of it. I’ll be all of it for you.