A Twisted Mind

I don't know why I wrote this. It was spontaneous, maybe just a side product of the chemical reaction called thinking.

There she goes. She is waiting for me, she has to be. She does not know me, I do not know her, but I think this is how it is going to end. I deserve her. Her beauty, her life, her soul; she will be my trophy, a trophy to recognize what I have been through in my life, what all I have endured to this day. I think I deserve her, I deserve her love and she needs mine. Every girl likes being loved and it is the same for all of them, no matter who loves them. And even if it does, who better to do than me. I am a warrior, a martyr, who has been repeatedly killed mercilessly by this society, by the people around me, hurt by them. I know I deserve her; I don’t have to justify this. It’s just a matter of time she realizes my love for her, her beauty, her body, her soul. I don’t care if she is a good girl or not, she will be good to me. She has to be, because I’ve earned it.

My father hates me, he says I am good for nothing; He asked me when I would start making money so that he can take it easy at his work, work less and live a longer life. He said his work was taking up his life, his eyes and I ought to find some work to make it lighter for him. But I don’t want that, why would I want to work for the rest of my life? I was born in a poor family, without means. I didn’t deserve that! I have lived a life of meagerness, a life of fewer privileges, a life less lived and there goes my trophy for getting through it. She had seen enough happy summers, cozy winters and sheltered monsoons. She will like a little rough life. By the time she has known me, she will realize that I am perfect for her, I am the one she would choose out of the princes, among all those car owners, those educated degree holders, those smiling smart people, she will pick me for being the dark warrior. I am not twisted, I am hurt and she would be the balm for me. I deserve her, I deserve her attention, her love, her smile and no one can come between us.

Look at her. She is pure, fair, beautiful and full of life. That belongs to me now, she owes it to me, and all beautiful girls owe it to me for what I have suffered. But I got to start somewhere. I got to pick one to start taking back what is mine, the beauty I deserve, the feminine love of my quota and she is the one who will do it. But she will like it, I know. No girl wants me, but they ought to know what they are missing. They are at their own loss, leaving out such a fine gentleman such as me from their lives. In fact, I deserve more than one for what I have suffered. The animal inside me wants to feed; it’s been hungry since it grew the appetite. It needs to get its hand on something fresh, something that I rightfully deserve and there she is, flaunting her beauty at me, her pureness at me by those fair legs, that seducing smile and her gentle walk, inviting me to her. Every move of here is a signal for me to some closer to her. I can’t wait anymore. She has been at it for some time and if I wait any longer, it will appear rude as if the king has gone vegetarian again.

I am getting closer; I can almost smell her, her soul, her beauty, her breath. She is pure, and she wants me. It will be a surprise at once, but they like it, they like you to take control. Once the surprise settles in, she is going to like me; she will realize it was me who she was waiting for so long. She will know that I can complete her life more than anyone, better than anyone else. She is mine; mine alone and she will be mine, from the body and from the heart. My love, here I come.