feeling the cold sharpness warm from contact with my wrists...the skin paper thin, veins hot against the cold. not to slit them...but to feel the possibilities...running the tip up my forearm...trailing a line of fire in its wake.
..finally the most delicious feeling of all...the sharpness against my lips, imagining the bite as it splits my bottom lip, feeling the power, and control, even over my own base desires.
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