What I Want.

I want to sit in a cave, throw rugs all over the floor with fat cushions to lean against. Books in crates with chocolates, dark chocolate please, for me to nibble on as I let myself wander into the different world each book offers.

I want it to rain pins and needles as I enjoy myself, raining hard upon him, hurting him bit by bit. Hacking on his flesh bit by bit as he vainly tries to look for shelter. He'll fall to his knees near the cave entrance, wanting to beg. Grovel as the grass under him changes colour with his blood.

I want him to feel the pain he has inflicted. To cry the tears that I did.

I want guilt to consume his very being. Darkening his soul as he wander aimlessly, mumbling his sins to himself as people stare. Ignoring his appearance as he stagger through the day, calling out for me and my forgiveness.

That's what I want now.