Ruin me
The Ruin That Marks My Soul
My body craves you.
My soul aches for you.
Yet I do not want sex with you.
I don’t want a round, a moment, or a fleeting touch.
I don’t want you in me only to be removed.
No—what I want goes beyond the flesh.
My hunger is not for your body,
but for your soul.
I’m not driven by desire alone—
I’m consumed by something sacred,
something that trembles between sin and worship.
I don’t want your touch,
I want your shivers.
The silent electricity that hums between us,
the surge that needs no words.
I want to moan with my eyes, not my mouth.
I don’t want sex—
I want you to mark my soul.
I want your ruin.
If you mark my soul,
then I am birthed for you—
for eternity.
If you ruin me,
let it be holy.
Let your imprint be the only shape
that fits the hollow you leave behind.
I don’t want pleasure—
I want revelation.
I want your hands to tear open the holy books,
to ruffle and rend every page,
until together,
we rewrite the scripture of us.
I don’t want sex.
I want our souls to merge—
to be one,
to be eternal.
Hey,
I just finished reading your story and I really loved it. The characters felt so real and every scene kept me completely engaged. I also have a few ideas on how we could enhance it visually if you are open to exploring them.