Squeezed

If I were to drag a knife down the entire length or my body, do you think I would feel it. Do you think I would notice. I have been so numb that not even a few slaps to the face woke me up. You can punch me, hit me, slap me, kick the fucking shit our of me, and, I wouldn't feel a thing. Cause I know I deserve it. I know I abused you, so heh, why not abuse me. Come on do it, do it. I know that's what you want to do. It's what I want you to do. Then again, what I do makes everyone unhappy, so you might as well kick me until I bleed to death, or push me off the roof of a building. Anything, I would let you do anything.

I broke you. I took your heart and squeezed it tight. So tight that it began spew blood. You watched as it ran down my arms and fell to the floor. With every squeeze, you grew weaker and weaker, and the pain continued to grow. You fell to the ground, with not enough strength to stand. You gazed up at me with those big innocent eyes, and with out a sound you asked why?
But I couldn't hear you. I couldn't see you. I just squeezed and ripped your heart as much as I pleased and I wasn't aware that I was killing you. Stupid no?

So kill me. Come here and kill me. Hurt me like I hurt you. Then maybe, you can be happy.