It's amazing the pain we can inflict on another human being when we're in a mood to. The emotional damage is just the icing on the physical cake, so to speak.
It's one thing to wrench through the chest cavity and pull out a metaphorical heart by telling a person that you no longer care for them, that you want a divorce, that someone younger and prettier has taken that space. It's another to tie a person up, with that malicious hunger for bondage, and scrape metal against skin until it bleeds and the screaming begins.
Perhaps if I had followed another path in life, I would have indulged in those horrific fantasies. Found a secret talent for pain and torture and put it to good use in some dark, unnamed part of life. To take that pin and slide it in between ribs to puncture a lung and leave them gasping for air. To take a sharp grater to knees or elbows, shredding skin. To break bones on a whim. To press my thumbs into eye sockets until they pop...
Oh the evils that I'm afraid I'd be capable of scare me. The dark and twisty parts of my shadow self know unlimited boundaries when my imagination boils. Oh, to pour out the gorrific into threads of a story and get them out of my head...and keep them from coming true...a delicate balance, much like the fine line in my soul.
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