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Rated: 13+ · Short Story · Death · #2322378
Brief story about romantic obsession.
I wanna tell her “I like you” tonight, forever, but the thoughts soon came crashing down when I realized do I like you for you? or do I like you because of your even skin?

My mind would wander in the most disturbing thoughts ever on how I can prove my likeliness for you.

I would tie you up and beat you somehow, try to look forwards to our next meeting but everyday will be our next meeting! I would grab a scalpel and turn you to the most beautiful human ever! I would gradually rip you open and took out your insides pulling them apart as I put your heart on my shelf. I would put gloves in my hands as I took out your guts and feeling them squish in every grab, I would gauge your eyes out and make them the most beautiful collection of eyes that even I can see stars in them...I would break your ribs and pull out your lungs to set aside, I would crack your skull to get your brains seeling as its a bit small then started laughing, I would cut your limbs and put them in the shed where they are in no use. I'll tear your skin off completely out of your body so that I can see your fully muscles red as crimson, I will use my strength to pull of your spine and clean it so I can use it for my decoration in the living room, I would stitch some of your skin back into your body but with you being more beautiful and charactegorized as a whole nother being, the most beautiful of all you wont have to bother your moving insides and how it hurts you, you dont have to see to believe, you dont have to hear and specially you dont have to feel all you ever have is to be still and stay pretty, I would put you up finally as a perfect piece and put you on my attic where the other perfect work of art is....

And in a day where I succeed I would never forget you.
My first piece of art, as I wander on the halls of this museum, one can only think of you; a portrait of you in bones and flesh scattered on the wall...

And in my thoughts it was unfair how you didnt even thank me, I brought you fame in the hands of bloody red and made you in the most fancy way.

Your bones will cremate and I will make pots out of them, vases even, Your broken skull will be on my designer collection, your heart will be with the anatomy of a hug, your skin and flesh would be feeded in the hyenas but dont worry my darling every bit of you wont be put into waste, as I pluck out your eyes I will put them in a doll as I can always look at you in the feeling as your limbs depart and sell them in the black market, I would make your hair as of fur and make it as a rug to sell and I will paint your face in a expensive canvas when I slowly tear you apart and name it after you in a museum which I call “Dialogue Of Death” this was all for your sake and I can never loose the thought of meeting you once I loose breath.

You are a work of art, a masterpiece I made; A perfect sample and as we dance our tango, our love anthem will began to play.

(Masochism Tango)
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