Poems for the Pained

Untitled Part 31

I need to hold that face again in between my palms,

I need the heat of that breath against my shoulder again, whimpering and whining as though I were all that mattered.

It's so nice to think back to those times, playful spanks while you cooked whatever fancy dish it was, walking the streets of town in darkness for hours, that time we lingered by the busker and the way you looked at me was a christian witnessing christ himself, your smile tilted one way just a bit too much and wrinkled up your whole face. 

Back before it all went wrong it felt so right. For months we dragged on knowing the ship had long since sailed and left us both adrift. That's partially what has made this so hard, we were always on the same ship, same page, same story, but nothing, no amount of forced romance and desperate moans could keep us going.

The sweetness ended so suddenly, so violently. The feeling of someone with half of my heart beating in their chest was corrupted in an instant. How could the rose become the thorn with no warning, it didnt have any thorns before. I don't remember most of the event, I'm not sure how much good it would do if I did, but the most vivid recollection is of the eyes.

It wasn't you, my lover was gone. If I think on it for too long he becomes something dead. That's all it was, dead weight scrambling for satisfaction, I'm not even sure if it knew what it was trying to do, I'm not sure it had any thoughts at all. 

Nobody heard me the first time I called so he tried to keep my quiet. My nose had been so blocked and he'd had his arm against my neck. It took me a few seconds to come to terms with the situation. I went limp really just to see if he'd notice if I died under his arm, he didn't notice, he didn't even know I did that I had to tell you after. but once my mouth was free I screamed for his mother. In the end it took both his parents and I to get him off of me, his sister locked us in her room with the deadbolt and at one point I heard him singing to the police downstairs.

It hurts so much, I didn't realise how fresh this still is.

I can cry and sit here and type out the altercation again and again and again and it will do nothing, these are just words, like you said it yourself 'what's anyone gonna do?'