"I'll be perfect for you. I'll rip and tear at my flesh until it becomes desirable, I'll carve away my personality until it compliments yours. My autonomy is no longer, I'll be your toy to use and abuse until I break, because maybe then I'll stop caring about you."

"My bones yearn for freedom outside their flesh prison, to feel the cold breeze for themselves and frost over to never again be surrounded by the scorching agony of skin and blood and muscle."

A scream, welling up in his throat, filling every inch of his insides like an abrasive bubble, scratching and clawing its way to the surface, to freedom with no regard to the blood and spittle until it emerges out between his teeth, rearing its ugly head to the world.