Desperate Need of Harsh, Honest Critique…?

So I am thinking about having this read at the Creative Writing Meeting. I would like advice, and critisim. the more the merrier.

My excuse for this is watching Law and Order SVU at two in the morning after reading Misery by Stephen King. does it sound plausible for this strange creation?

This is sort of a story/poem. not quite sure...
what I thought a rope, was a snake. a snake that knew my will, that knew my wishes, my desires, what was best for me before I knew it myself. the snake embraced her neck, twisting in upon itself, flicking its encouraging tail into my hand. Uncertain, I gave a tug. Her weak neck surged forward, unleashing the siren in her throat. the snake told me "no," grew taunt in my hands, and helped me go forward.

I asked her to scream. I begged. I pleaded loud, clear, and gently as her punctured skin wept. She refused. it was her fault, she continued to force me to cause pain. She stood over me as a giant weeping silently. She's still there, in that room below me.

I should go check on her.

no.

I can't stand her right now. She'll force me to do more things. She'll make me take it out. Silence will be my reward. I hate having to work so hard for that small moment of sanity, for that moment of bliss that comes when her scream rises through me. the small leverage that causes illusions hand to slip. I'm going. I must have it. must be released from this abyss masqerading as a dining room table. I haven't eat fro two days. not since that other girl left. She left a most humble way. She swirled away, turning as a dancer might, down a drain. the parts of her that biologically were of no use to me compressed, foul smelling.

I still wanted to touch her.

I didn't want her to be gone.

I didn't want her to go.

God knows best, my body is his temple, and he knows best.

I make sure to go heavily downstairs, I want her to fix herself for me. I want her full attention when I take it out. She must be aware, only the people who are awake learn. Her lesson today is to know her place. I am in charge.She is still in her chair, shoulders stretched out not supporting her curtain of hair. It's covering her nudity, she is hiding her temple from me! no! this will not do!Snatching the offending curtain, and a slice of moon in my hand, I cut away the shadows. the moon will see the temple, will flow over the temple, the moon will enter the temple.

.

it looks more like a story than anything, i like the detail because i can literally picture most of your scheme.
but it is pretty disappointing because (for a reader) i see you get off topic and i get confused with what your trying to say.. the ending was also everywhere >_<

but it was good overall..

Desperate Need of Harsh, Honest Critique...?