No a nice fluffy Spuffy fic. Something dark from Buffy's return. Inspired by Get down with the sickness (from Disturbed). The title of this fic is from David Bowie.
Good or bad, reviews are appreciated.
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I…
I hit.
don't…
Hard. Blood flies.
love
My knuckles are raw. But still…
Still. You don't
you!
Hit back.
Do you feel my pain? Do you feel the frost that burns every inch of my mind and leaves me open to every thought? Do you feel my sanity slipping? Do you feel those aliens things that were once my feelings?
Are you so cruel that you know what I need from you and still won't give it to me? Do you love me too much to hurt me?
Get up. Get up and stand up to me. Tell me that I'm crazy; tell me that I'm sick and a worthless piece of shit. You still lie bleeding, looking at me with raw wounded eyes. I pick you up, hold you up against the wall.
Make me feel pain. Make me hurt so much that it washes everything else in my body. Give me back the white blinding light of oblivion.
Speak to me, tell me that you love me. Kill me with the tenderness that I can't feel. I want you to know what tempest is raging inside my soul.
Your demon wants out to play. Well, come out, come out where ever you are. I raise my bleeding fingers to your mouth, you start to shake. Slowly I trace your lips with crimson red teasing your demon. I know he'll do it even if you won't. We understand each other, don't we dearest?
Golden specks highlight your eyes but you push me back. I hit back.
I don't play. Hit me. Hurt me. Do I have to beg you on my knees to get you to break every bones in my body? I will. Here, on my knees open to your will.
But you still don't.
My head is bent, the penitent looks for his remission. But I know there is no salvation anymore.
So with this piece of glass from the window that your body broke I make my last offering. As I watch you leave I listen to the drip drip drip of the blood that slowly washes my sin.
It doesn't work, I am still black. There is no more light in me.
