run
she carves her name in my thigh with her fingernails
i let her, looking down at her from the couch
while she sits there on her knees with some of my blood in her mouth
i tell her i love her and she just grins with sharp teeth
she’s known because she always knows
there is no point in keeping a secret from her
she does not say it back
that is the thing about her
it is intoxicating and damning
she draws you in and then she plays with you like a toy
the worst part is you will enjoy it
because any time from her, even cruel time,
is time at all
she turns you into a dog under a dinner table
she holds me in her arms late at night
wrapped up in our linen sheets
but no matter how close we are i do not get any warmer
she is a drug and i mean this genuinely
you crave her and want her but then you get her
and no dose of her will ever satisfy for long
she is hunger and the hellish desire to eat human flesh
she is my addiction
i tell myself all the time, “i will not go back to her.”
but i do every single time
her kisses have a high i cannot find anywhere else
her voice have a buzz that is unreplicable
her touch has a daziness to them that is only divined from a god
her pagan god is probably aphrodite, beautiful but vindictive
here is the truth of her:
she loves making you fall in love with her
and then she loves to make you cry over her
she won’t ever love you back
she’ll just sit on the floor with you on the couch
and she will carve her name on your thigh while you bite back tears
there’s a reason she doesn’t carve your name on your thigh, she doesn’t see you as yours
