She Said It First

She said it first.

Not him. Not the moment. Not the shame.

Her.

"Wreck me better."

This book wasn’t built on command. It wasn’t built on language games or rituals of speech. It was built on something deeper—a need that didn’t ask, only offered.

Wreck Me Better wasn’t plotted. It was uncovered. Like something already written in the muscle and waiting for permission to be spoken aloud.

No one makes her say it. She says it because she knows what she wants.

She wants to fall apart in new ways. She wants it louder, slower, sharper than the first time.

This isn’t degradation for sport. This is collapse with intention.

She isn’t broken. She just doesn’t want to hold herself together anymore.