Tell me where I messed up. I want to know, what went wrong?
It's my mind isn't it, damn independent thoughts. Nothing a butcher's knife can't cure. Let's carve my brain out and let it land with a satisfying plop on the floor beside me. Then I will be docile, then I will do just what I'm told. But these lips, they must also be punished for whispered defiance. scratch them off my face, peel them away so my teeth are left bare and accountable for their chatterings. Leave only my body for that alone has not yet offended.
I will be your brainless, lip-less servant. I will fetch and carry and sit and stand and kneel for you. I will nod mutely when you tell me I'm worthless and stare blankly at the wall when you strike out in frustration.
I am your diversion.
When things go wrong, it's because of me.
I shouldn't have been thinking in the first place.
34th and Lexington
15 years ago
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