Why must I still think such things?
Such thoughts I think still make scars sting
My skin it crawls away from me
My sins fall with insanity
The guilt I feel, it fades away
As I give hope a place to stay
Yet shelter gives way to a nuisance at home
He’ll lie in my bed yet I’ll feel so alone
He’ll lie instead to say it’s always my fault
Yet I refuse to do anything but always exalt
His lies like flies on the wall overhead
His eyes like ice through the back of my head
Abuse of the verbal kind that I find crave the most
Abuse my twisted mind and I’ll purpose a toast
To my stinging scars and crawling skin
To my violent insanity and guilty sins
To the bed we’ve made through abuse and lies
To the hope that fades when I refuse to be wise
To you and I and our never-ending detriment
I’m starting to find that’s all you’ve ever meant
About the Creator
Ivy Rozen
Writer and poet with published articles, email campaigning experience, teaching experience, and a completed poetry residency with Free Verse, where I finished my first book of poems, Runcation, on sale now at www.IvanaWrites.com
Killing him slowly
There’s an intruder in my house again. He stumbles through the door, wet carrier bags in hand. He’s bought me offerings. I show my appreciation, letting him caress my beautiful body. He wants to touch me. I rub myself against his legs. He sighs, dropping the bags. He can’t resist touching me. Running his hand slowly down my spine, I arch my back towards his caress, let out a low purr. It’s what we both need.
By N J Delmasabout 9 hours ago in Horror
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