He comes in the quiet

whispering about bloodied hands

and a twisted, dirty, ugly soul

wearing a plain girl's face

His lips skim along my skin

The barest touch

as he tells a loveless story

with tender words.

He grants me some

supposed mercy

in allowing me to keep breathing

 

He comes in the quiet

with clawing nails

and biting teeth

that never mark my skin.

My name sits

hushed on his lips,

spoken with a care

that should seem misplaced

but doesn't.

Followed by three

damning words

interchanged with each

gasping, choking breaths.

"I hate you"

I scream.

"I love you"

I break.

 

He comes in the quiet,

a distraction from

my ever downward spiralling thoughts.

With his gentle reminders

and prying questions

about things best left forgotten

His name catches in my throat,

and his eyes are demanding.

I know what he wants,

it's what he always wanted.

"I love you too"