A very, very dark piece, I must admit. But, I'm going through some shit times right now [not to mention I'm starting to adore Bronzeshipping] so I decided to whip this little piece up. Even though, as I type this, I really want to smash my face in and I should be doing my Science homework, but I'm a fucking procrastinator. Yeah er…. Enjoy, I guess, even though I think it's pretty twisted… -thinks she and Malik are alike in too many ways than one- …I feel bad for the guy, I really do. T.T
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He is everything, and to him, I am nothing.
He is the dark. The horrid things no one would ever wish upon even their worst enemy. He is the exact opposite of me. He is everything bitter, evil and vain about me, in one, sadistic package.
He is my Yami.
He goes by many names, but I prefer call him Yami, because we share our—No. We share my name. We share my body; My blonde hair, my lavender eyes, my bronzed skin. We share my pain, hatred, and evil.
But, how can two so alike, be so different at the same time?
Because, he is not like me. We may look alike, speak alike, but we will never be alike. He is twisted, sick and disgusting. He finds pleasure in all of my pain, absorbs every blow I throw at him like it's nothing. And, it is nothing, because I cannot fight him.
I can't escape, because I do not want to.
He is my Yami, my darkness, and my idol, in so many ways then I can list. Even if that spiked hair of mine atop his head makes me want to vomit at times, I can't look away. When my dark lavender eyes glower sadistically into my own, it is as if he's held me in his grasp, and I can't turn away from that man. When my strong, bronze hands grip, tear, and hurt me, I don't even attempt to escape, because I simply do not wish to. Because, I know, this is the creatures' sick way, of showing me his love.
Every time he uses my own body against me, I never turn away. I want him to touch me, in places I'd never mention to him. Though, if he does, he would never be kind and gentle, because that is not in his nature. Because he simply does not understand what gentle is. The word "genteel" is most likely absent from his vocabulary. As are many others, as much as I hate to regret it.
I'd be content to scream at the rat bastard my true feelings. To confess the love for him I have, burning deep inside my hollow, broken chest. But, he is already aware. We share everything. And he simply doesn't understand it. He can't understand my love, because he's not made to love. He's made to hate. To torture. To drive me fucking insane. And, I must admit, these are the very things he is best at.
At night, when he storms about my mind, trying to make me scream and bleed and yell, I wish he would just love me. I wish he'd merely take me in our- …my strong arms, and cradle me. But, this is only what I wish. What I dream he'd do for me. Though, he never will.
Pain is what he lives on.
My pain.
So, I let him drag my sharp nails across the deep scars on my back, letting the blood drip freely from the wounds. I let him puncture my skin with my own teeth, and let him lap up my blood after. And, I give him what he wants most from all of this. The one thing that makes torturing me a feeling he'll come running back for.
My screams. My tears. My cries.
And I will always welcome him with more. Because this is love. This is our love. And it cannot be any other way between us.
See? I told you. A dark, dark piece. But, it's what I felt like. I needed to write it. I mean, c'mon. There is just NOT enough Bronzeshipping on here, either. That is TOTALLY not cool. .
Anyways, it'd be very nice if you left me a review, seeing how terrible my life is becoming. And I'd totally love you if you did. (^w^)