There is a monster inside.
A monster that must be satisfied.
Not by food.
But by blood.
The knife screaming to me.
'Just one little cut. It won't hurt. It will make you feel better.'
Damn him for doing this to me.
For repeatedly raping my soul.
Because of him I can never be whole.
He started when I was too young to understand.
Too young to know.
He stopped only after I was too torn apart to be saved.
Too ashamed.
The blade was the only way I could live.
Only way to survive.
Addicted to knives.
Dead inside.
I needed to feel.
The pain brought me out of my darkness.
Out of the numbness.
Now I am obsessed.
With the blood.
With his abuse of me.
Why did he do this to me?
Why did he cut into me like the knife in my hand?
Why did he do it every night for two years?
With his bloodshot eyes and his whiskey breathe.
'I won't hurt you.'
'You are so beautiful.'
'This is our little secret.'