This Fucking Feeling

I.

I am...

Being ravaged.

Within my center, stabbing at my abdomen deceptively dull knives fileting my flesh no more than fish cutlets.

The metaphor makes me drool.

My thoughts no longer my own.

Ravage. Kill.

I want...

If I could I would ravage you. Kill you, tear you to pieces.

You who submits are my beloved, so silky and smooth and sweet in my mouth.

You who resists me, who impedes me earns my primal, virile hate.

So then, let us begin.

"DAMN IT!"

You sit there so smug and sublime.

My suffering reaching a fever pitch.

Near to my knees.

"Just bend! HOW DO I OPEN YOU!"

The package of donuts tore spilling two upon the floor.