Wednesday, September 29, 2010
I am bent over a table - knuckles white clinging to the edge. He is in me - not moving. Then .. then I feel the cold tip of steel against my warm skin. Feel it sliding down my back - skin separating - blood oozing - dripping slowly.
The cold steel moves on.. slowly.. tantalizing me.. drawing me into it... feeling the warmth of the blood drying against my back. I shiver
He starts to move .. slowly .. in time with the blade.. back and forward... slowly .. more tantalizing.....
I moan softly ... clutch the table edge tighter... my breath quickens.. my heart pounds............
The bell rings and the children tumble into the room laughing and talking and the daydream evaporates into mist before my eyes... I join them .... in reality.