Raz
Bluelighter
Do you remember that bald guy with the thick black lashes, goatee shaped into three trident prongs? His eyes were vertigo-deep with some kind of intensity, a hunger for experience. Fingers drumming against his thigh, murder-colored tattoos barely visible beneath a shirt so white it was begging for the stains of blood you would leave when he smashed you face-first into the glass;
Do you remember the gestalt of dog shit and leather that left you with nightmares of Doc Martens crushing the air from between each one of your ribs and waking you up afterwards scared and hard? Always scared and hard;
The bruises took weeks to fade;
You can't buy sex like that.
Maybe you don't remember, because it was so long ago now. There have been a lot more beatings along the way and your skin is no stranger to stitches. He wasn't even the worst, not by a long shot. A night spent in hospital, then home again to face the day. Not like that time those four men jumped you in the park, calling you fag and laying in the boot and kissing you with the wrong side of the hammer;
They gave you new holes, the better to fuck you up;
Now that's tough love.
But wait, you do remember. You do remember, don't you? How adrenalin surged inside your veins, futile fingers casting some spell of please don't hurt me please don't hurt me, all the while thinking and knowing that this was all your fault;
Somehow this is all your fault.
He was the one who made you love what you deserve.
Do you remember the gestalt of dog shit and leather that left you with nightmares of Doc Martens crushing the air from between each one of your ribs and waking you up afterwards scared and hard? Always scared and hard;
The bruises took weeks to fade;
You can't buy sex like that.
Maybe you don't remember, because it was so long ago now. There have been a lot more beatings along the way and your skin is no stranger to stitches. He wasn't even the worst, not by a long shot. A night spent in hospital, then home again to face the day. Not like that time those four men jumped you in the park, calling you fag and laying in the boot and kissing you with the wrong side of the hammer;
They gave you new holes, the better to fuck you up;
Now that's tough love.
But wait, you do remember. You do remember, don't you? How adrenalin surged inside your veins, futile fingers casting some spell of please don't hurt me please don't hurt me, all the while thinking and knowing that this was all your fault;
Somehow this is all your fault.
He was the one who made you love what you deserve.
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