They didn't want to hurt me,
but I wanted them to.
They didn't want to break me,
but I begged to be broken.

Maybe it was me who was
the monster, but how could I be?
I knew what I wanted,
I wanted to feel something,
anything.

Pain, anger, relief;
I needed to feel something.
I was drowning in my
own mind, I was
loosing myself, and
I needed out.

Pain would have been
better then nothing,
and that's what they gave me.
They gave in, breaking me,
corrupting me, and replenishing me
all at once.

I was to be used at the
disposal of my own
dark whims and self denial
of scorching need and
brazen ambitions.