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Thine lips are cold; I do not fear thee.

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Have you always been there, I wonder

Lingering in every dark corner like frozen gossamer

Smiling slightly ever still at my misfortune,

At every whip crack of torment,

At every slice I have done unto myself.

 

Do you think what a miserable wretch I am

And do you pity me?

Could you pity me? Do you feel at all?

You, unmoving and permanent and cold as the moon,

Silent unbiased watcher

 

Reflecting in your eyes the lives of every living thing

Pulling them into your void of starless nights,

Stealing their breath and their light.

Yet I have no light to steal.

And yet you remain.

 

I feel that you are there,

That you continue pull at my strings

Even as I, cursed being, twist in my twisted flesh,

Make any attempt to fling myself from the darkness of my own soul,

Aching and dripping black and crimson

And muddying my lungs.

 

My lungs burnt cold when I first saw you.

Soft mouth moving ever closer

Softer hands sliding of their gloves and touching my face,

Caressing my hollow cheeks in such a tender motion

That I wept.

 

You smiled something maternal and terrible

Catching the tears on your thumbs, on your tongue,

A gentle touch I had never been shown in life;

Another cruel joke of God

That you should be the first to show me mercy.

 

Barbed wire fibers dug deeper into my neck

As you suckled on my virgin lips

And my pieces of my mournful soul slipped out between my teeth,

Between our breaths.

If you could breathe at all.

 

You should have ended it then,

My pain and suffering on this mortal coil

Doomed to mask myself with powder and words

And pretty little lies

Instead of dangling simply from your tongue.

 

I shall never understand why you cut the rope.

Why I was deprived of what was rightfully mine,

What should have been mine,

What I should have gotten to chose.

But you left me panting and gasping and gurgling around my pulse.

 

How many years have you tormented me now?

My ever present shadow, growing longer and longer

As my mind slips and I obsess and fixate to distract my mind

Though your palms are always pressing out from the inside of my skull,

And I moan at the feeling.

 

This is what you wanted, is it not?

A trickster god, a wicked fae, demon thing,

Coiled like a serpent and stretching yourself across me like a cat.

Vixen face and temptress tongue.

Yet I know you are an angel.

 

I will laugh at you if you think I am fearful now,

But we both know better.

In my mind my hands tangle themselves into your hair

And I want to pull them just to see if you could feel pain,

If you could understand what pain is.

 

Can you feel? Can you feel anything?

I grow insane at not knowing,

But you always seem to come back to me,

Does that mean something?

Do you even know the answer yourself?

 

My best laid plans have fallen apart,

As everything I touch does,

Gnarled Midas hands that turn everything to dust.

And you would forever remain untouched. Unblemished.

My beautiful angel.

 

I prostrate myself to you,

Kneeling and shaking with empty hands and emptier heart,

But oh how my heart bleeds blue for thee.

How long have you waited?

Won't you claim what is yours?

 

Haven't I been good? Haven't I been patient?

I have waited to, don't you know that?

You left my heart to go on beating through these hollow ribs,

Veins of tar, polluted. Oily thick.

The rope is back around my neck.

 

I see only black reflected back in your eyes,

Two faint pinpricks of a sun as my eyelashes close.

Both of us starved of love, I will you to devour me.

Thine lips are cold;

I do not fear thee.