Can you handle the blood?
Is it something you hate?
Does the violence excite you?
Am I too twisted and broken for you?
Or is that why you keep coming back to riffle through the pages where I live?
Returning to see if I will change,
if the villain can become the hero?
You see all my flaws,
all my hidden thoughts,
yet you keep returning.
You have fingers as soft as the paper they caresses,
eyes deeper than the black
beyond the edge of the universe.
You twist your hair as you read of my trials and tribulations.
You bite your lip as I am wounded and left to bleed.
You call my name in your sleep.
You love me,
you hate me,
you want me,
you rape me.
I suffer gladly through it all.
Just hoping you will return to do it all again.

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