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Relapses

Fifty ways to say I want you, I hate you

Start: I don't think I hated anyone quite as much as him. He makes me burn with an anger previously unknown. I think due to him I'm suffering a relapse of emotional stress. I've started feeling the same way towards this fool as I felt towards the witch. I'm breaking every vow I've ever made. I suppose that in return for this emotional crime I'll hurt him in her stead. Every bone I break and every drop of blood that falls will be for her, for everyone that could have shone in my movement, bright and uncontrolled, like stars. That sun that shines so bright will fall at my feet begging for release when I have my way.

Bleed: I wonder what color he bleeds. I am aware that one is meant to bleed red and therefore he ought to but I expect so much more from him. I've always expected too much from everyone. I thought there was more loyalty, more strength, more self-control inside that witch. I expect too much from him as well, too much wit, too much beauty, too much desperate whimpering screaming sobs as I run my hands over that broken and bruised torso that he shows only to be in a mix of fear and adoration just like I want to do to that witch. I ought to lower my standards.

Disgust: I'm disgusting. Replacing someone so powerful with a filthy self-righteous misunderstanding thing with handsome azure eyes that remind me of the sea a destiny that he doesn't deserve. A man that couldn't see the greater things she was meant for, someone that couldn't just leave her and me alone and save his world and let me save mine. If only he could see stars the way I do. He'd beg me for forgiveness if he could see her the way I do, see them all the way I do. He sees them as people with too much power when what they are is the future of this world, oppressed out of humanity's fear. He's disgusting.

Appreciate: He can't even appreciate her the way I did. It's not his fault though; he tries. Oh he tries but he can't see how ugly she is, see how cruel. He can't see the wilted petals of a black rose fall ever lower. He can't see the lonely malformed beating heart beneath a rib cage of the frailest glass. He can't fuck that heart the way I can. Turn it into something almost watchable. He can't stand to destroy a heart. And worst of all he can't appreciate a broken and fucked up heart like hers, like mine.

Moon: Look at the moon. What a silly thing it is. A light that borrows it's source from the sun, from a star. I suppose he thinks of me as a moon. I was a star once, something brighter than a supernova. Someone beyond brave, beyond bold, beyond these mortal coils. I'm back to where I started from because of this desire. I am a star that weakly glows behind a brighter thing that threatens to swallow my lights whole. But for tonight and many nights after this I am content to just be a light.

Tongue: I wonder what it feels like. To have that tongue searching the entrances of one's lips. To have those hands wrapped around one's waist. To have those lips murmuring apologizes and starry eyed words into the crook of one's neck. I want to feel that silver tipped tongue, to feel those calloused hands, to hear those stinging, biting, truthfully begging words graze me. I want what I can not have, control. I know of the hate I feel but not of those things I think I want to feel even more.

Heart: Two hearts entwined, intertwined, stitched together in the heart you see everywhere as a replacement to biology. Two beats in unison echo through my dreams. The sound of the right one gets louder and louder and threatens to drown the left one out. The blood pours from the hastily covered up wound. Tears fall from the poor face of the black against the red. Sinister red and dexter black. Flaws evident in the malformed and broken hearts. Two hearts make one you know but a million pieces do not. I wake up in a sweat filled daze.

Circle: Round and round my poor emotions go. The lust chases the hatred, the hate ignored the burning desire til love creeped up and tried to strangle them both in their sleepy haze of pride and hypocrisy. Round and round it will always go.

Beauty: Beauty is in the eye of the beholder. The one that owns you understands the beauty of you. Others can't understand but aspire to know. I want to own him so I can know his beauty fully. What makes that man tick. I will take that beautiful body in my greedy slutty hands and twist and burn it until it doesn't even remember the kiss of the summer's breeze.

Show: I want to watch him closer. In order to get revenge I have to completely understand him. I need to know who he cares about, who cares about him, his motivations, his complications, how he's so damn charming that I want to fall upon my knees and beg him to make me a whore just like he did to the witch. I have to get closer.

Skin: He wouldn't be as charming if I ripped off his skin. I'd show the world his bare muscle and bones. That beating and malformed heart, I'd fuck it right in front of his adoring fans so they see what happens and understand flawed beauty. I'd make sure only his inner self remains, that beautiful and hideous thing that I want to overtake and break me until I'm a broken and bloodied thing just like I know he must want to. We're all cruel inside. If I rip off his skin he'll hate me even more and everyone will hate him and then he'll be all mine just like I want.

Ill: I'm a very ill man. I think I'm losing it. All because of some little nothing playing hero with a spoiled brat, a street urchin, a wilted rose trying to stain those black petals pink and a pair of two twos that want to be aces had to ruin everything I've ever worked for. That nothing is so full of secrets that I have to know, things I have to enjoy that walking away is impossible. I aspire to know these things and that my dearling is my only true sin.

Alone: I have never needed anyone. Not my mother as the burning metal stuck to my skin and I cried flames of golden fire and burnt a deep crimson filled with blood as she ran away from me like I was the monster, not my father as the ashes of the burnt boy lay beside me and I choked on my own smoke while he screamed about the demon that I am, not that witch, that smiling, laughing witch that made promises and vows of love and made me believe in mercy. I won't break that by needing him. I don't need that unmistakable shining starry heart as it drips blood into my loving hands, that Divinity that surpasses me that kind of trouble. I don't need him screaming my name, how sorry he is that he broke me as I fuck that heart into pieces.

Names: Names are important in my profession. They tell others who we should be afraid of and who needs to fear us. Titles are similarly important, even more so actually. King, Trickstar, Shining Star of Satellite, Black Rose Witch, Polar God Holders and all those things. I bet you all know every one of those names by heart. No one I took in knew my name or title, but they knew I was Divine.

Scent: He smells like mist and motor oil. Or perhaps more correctly his house smells like it. I haven't actually smelt him yet but I aspire to. I aspire for him to see me, feel me, hate me, forgive me for what I've done in the name of Divinity, remember what he's done and pay for it with blood and sweat. To pay with his mind, body and soul.

Confused: I'm sure you are all quite confused; not as confused as me. That heart is completely drowning me out. I can't think or breathe or let myself enjoy any pain for the thoughts of those azure eyes flicking open with silent prayers of pleasure and snatches or pain, that chest that he'll cut and tear only for me revenge against that man.

Hair: I push the hair out of my eyes for a split second before allowing the curtain of red to fall over one side of my face. Sometimes I'll forget what he's done to me but then I reach a hand to my face and feel the scars. I could fix the scar. I could but then he wouldn't recognize what he did and I would forget. That is unacceptable but because this scar marks me to the world just like that little yellow tattoo I ground off my face I have to hide it behind a curtain of red.

Insomnia: Two hearts beating, crying, pleasurable screams of distorted minds and thoroughly fucked hearts. Flames kiss the skin as it burns holes deep inside the sinister and the dexter laughs and laughs and them. He's not sorry. Neither of them are sorry. I don't think I'll be sleeping again.

Food: Teeth digging into empty hearts and souls like the fuel they were for that sinister thing. Thinking sinister unacceptable and weak dexter ripped him apart with teeth of azure and golden fire. Sinister ripped into dexter's soul and they both cried tears of bleeding roses.

Travel: I need to leave this place. Go somewhere where he isn't. I heard Germany's pleasant. Maybe I'll steal the witch away and dance flames until he hears of this and comes to rescue her and then I'll burn that beautiful body alive as she sobs as the ultimate revenge. Maybe he'll kill me and we'll be bonded that way.

Book: A black market therapist suggested that I keep some sort of journal. I keep rereading it and it doesn't make any sense so I'm going to burn it. I've always hated books without endings regardless.

Dressed: He's all dressed up and acting coy, dolled up like a brand new Christmas toy. I aspire to take that heart and tear it apart and make that body dressed up so Divine intertwined with mine.

Love: I do not believe in many things, not God anymore, not His sins, not in angels or demons or black and white or words of golden fire, and certainly not love. I will never love anyone again especially not that man that reminds me of him a bleeding star.

Sin: I am a sinner. A glutton when I search for more remnants of stars than one man can hold. A miser when I clambered for reputation when there was none to be found. A green thing when I want her to die for distracting me with her pretty body for taking him and loving him like I can't. A monster when I debate killing her and burying her just because I hate witches and love stars. A desire when I wake up from nightmares hot and sticky and wanting him so badly it hurts and I pretend he's making me what I once was again.

Cry: Why am I crying? I'm not supposed to.

Traitor: The witch betrayed me, she wasn't forced. What I've done is justified, she never loved me. And I rewarded her as a traitor deserves and soon her azure eyed soul mate that sings words of golden fire and makes me scream will suffer that same fate for daring to oppose me. I don't like it when people betray me.

Goodbye: Sayonara my wilted Black Rose, I'll see you in Hell. Because no matter what you say or do you will never be forgiven after you've done cruel deeds. We're monsters that even heavenly beings misunderstand.

Friend: I had a friend once when I was a boy. She saw my flames one day and told her parents who told the police and as I had no one but her I was forced to leave that place. I burnt her alive in her house as a traitor deserves with golden fire.

Fantasy: I have fantasies where he bleeds with me. He cries his apologies and I cry mine. I bleed slowly to death wrapped around him like a pair of tragic lovers, the lovers I know we could be if he'd let me into that malformed heart and allow me to tear the thing clean apart. And then we cry tears of azure and golden fire that sinks into the ground and screams come from the ones that don't understand as they run from us terrified as we ascend and transcend this hideous world that's as rotten to the core as wilting red roses. And he smiles sadly like the hero he is that I've always wanted to be, to own.

Jewelry: I left him a trinket of the witch's, a small ring that I took off her as I snapped those fingers that touched him one too many times in adoration that belongs to me and only me as all ought to adore me like they adore him, like I adore him as she died. He could be my rose of azure fire, He will be soon, soon. It's only fair for me to treat him this way, he broke her so this is my revenge, by showing him what he can not have. He slips the ring onto his finger and sobs. I want to lick those tears dry and replace them with golden fire and tears.

Empty: One does not understand emptiness until they have a gun at a man's head.

"At least tell me who you are." The urchin pleads without the tears.

"What. You mean what." I laugh with cold flames.

"What are you then?"

"D-Divine!"

Bang. Emptiness is when you lose your edge and can't do it and shoot into the sky and because you're weak. Because if you kill his last remaining bond you'll make him cry again and he should only cry out of sadness for you, not from you. All you can do is muster you're killing spirit and vow to do it next time and let that urchin run away.

Jealous: The man tells him everything. He hugs the urchin and the urchin smiles and laughs with him like I can't. Is this urchin the one that owns him? The only one that doesn't have to aspire to know the secrets deep within that chest? Curious and curiouser this star is.

Miss: I don't miss her, I can't. She was too close, too far gone, a traitor dressed in pink and red where once was black fire that lapped at me curiously, deliciously just like the azure fire will. I don't miss her.

Together: Together, I want him to be with me. He's so strong, so charming, so beautifully flaming azure words of golden fire! I want him to be my gun. I want to be with him. I aspire to be with him! My thin and fragile psyche screaming again. I aspire for him to be my gun that loves and shows that terrible and malformed and thoroughly fucked heart only to me. Together we can take the world apart!

Nightmares: His heart stitched to mine. A backtrack of pain and pleasure and fire. Myself beneath him as I sob apologies in his bruised and wet chest. Crying out his name, telling him how much I want him. I'm not sorry, not one bit but still within these nightmares I cry out these things. And he smiles and embraces me and all those repressed tears fall onto bloodied concrete. I can't and I won't feel this way for him so fuck you soul, I hope you starve on love.

Proposals: I have written and rewritten that letter a hundred times. A letter telling him that the witch wasn't burnt and that if he wants her he'll have to get me. It's like a marriage proposal because if he accepts he's never coming back.

Repeat: Round and round my poor emotions go. The lust chases the hatred, the hate ignored the burning desire til love creeped up and tried to strangle them both in their sleepy haze of pride and hypocrisy. Round and round it has stopped going.

Quit: I wonder if I can quit him. Probably not anymore.

Lose: I'm losing it, I'm losing it, I'm losing it, I've lost it.

False: I'm a liar, I've lied to everyone I've ever cared about. Myself included. I've lied to her, I lie to myself and I'll lie to him all in the name of something I don't know.

Mirror: Mirror, mirror on the wall why am I the last to fall? So you can pay for the sins you have committed with your fire Simon. You've destroyed countless lives for nothing, you never cared about any of those so called stars, only filling that void with words of golden fire. That void can never be filled. Shut up. You've been empty since you ran away, since he burnt to death because you couldn't help yourself. Shut up! You're a void because you were born a monster! SHUT UP!

Static: The sound of static soothes me as I begin fixing the TV. I want to see him duel. I haven't seen a duel in so long. I remember watching duelists as a kid, Yuki Judai, Manjoume Jun, Tenjoin Asuka and of course the Hell Kaiser. He didn't scare me like he did other people, I liked his style.

Kiss: A kiss is all I want from him. I want to know what it feels like to pretend I'm a young man trying to decide who he is. When I burnt him alive I decided that I'd be a savior and I am but one that no one appreciates. I'm a tragically misunderstood hero painted as a monster.

Money: I used to have quite a lot of money. I used to be able to go to the store and buy food. I guess I'll be stealing my dinner again tonight, or at least until my contact gets back into the city.

Ring: I see him wearing that rose ring. It still shines perfectly. As long as he wears that ring I haven't lost him. He's still mine. He still needs to pay me and I won't let him escape until I have his mind, body and soul and that azure fire.

Stain: He's a stain on reality; a thing so flawed it's perfect that some being must have made it with flames and words of golden fire. He's something so beautiful that it should have been killed but is so disgusting that you WEEP at the sight of that thing that makes you confused and in awe like a Divine moment in space and time.

Marriage: I skip the flowery language. After all this time I'll make him pay. In my broken house, strapped to a chair with blood running down his cheeks and he's holding back tears or azure words filled with that golden fire you need to fill yourself with you dirty little thing.

"Hello Shining Star." I smirk.

Re-Birth: "Don't call it death, call it rebirth. I'm remaking you in an image where you are better, where you will shine far brighter than you do now."

"It's still death, no matter what you call it you fool, you monster. You've lost it more than last time I saw you but this time I'm strong. This time you won't break me!"

A slap shuts up the bold and malformed man.

"I'll fuck that bleeding broken heart of yours until you see the world from a new perspective."

"Like Aki? That didn't work very well for you though."

"You little slut! Don't speak about her!"

"Why? You're the one that killed her?"

"Because she knows of the words of golden fire, the words I ASPIRE to know! Because you're a hero that I want to claim, to break, to break me. I want to be you're Akiza Iyazoi, you're red rose, Yuusei."

"I'm actually concerned about you're well-being. What happened to you Divine?"

"You happened Yuusei, you and those eyes of azure words of golden fire and that malformed heart that I dream is stitched to the sinister me. And I'll erase everything you are and have so you'll think only of me."

Time: I erased every little part of him, my Blue Rose. He is her replacement. The remnant of her. My words of golden fire that fill the void with tears of malformed hearts. Together the worlds bows before us and all the stars among all the skies, the future is no longer feared by weak mind men and women. Little boys with hands of golden fire aren't chased from cities and little girls with dreams of being roses aren't wilted by heroes with silver tipped tongues. The world belongs to those that deserve them, those with eyes that can see the moon properly and know of stars. I fill this incredible void with the words of aspiration and golden fire just so that brainwashed nothing that held too much of my adoration will whisper when he sees me in the mornings after our hearts become stitched

"I love you."

Ha. Ha. These words of golden fire may fill me at last.

Author Note: Honestly, the story's about Divine going in and out of sanity due to Yuusei's charms. Not even he can resist them and that's what makes him crazy. Now similar to the other story something is up to interpretation. In this story you know who saying what as Divine is the narrator the entire way through. The thing up for interpretation is why. Why is he so attracted to Yuusei? Why can't he deal with it and finally why is he who he is. I can't tell you the answer to any of that because I don't know. I have ideas about it but I don't know. And besides if I did that wouldn't change how you feel. So leave your answers if you have any in your review. See you next mindscrew fifty themes with Withdrawal. That's gonna be a doozy.