Weave a new start for this wasted heart,
And set fire to what is left of my bones.
I never truly owned this anyway--
Alas, I was fine this way (I lie).

You gave me something to consider
With no intention of leaving me bitter.
I guess you may not understand it, but--

But, let me be clear.

I love (and fear) when people come near me.

Affection is a condition beyond norm.
I always have to perform to achieve
A physical feeling I didn't believe in.
Love is a fable for us unaccustomed
To sweet, stable, abled affection,
And it was conditional for me.
Every touch required a fee.

I am no perfectionist; no, I am a mess.

I am shredded silk and soured milk,
And twine twisted around fingers.
Have you ever kissed a cactus?
You never asked for this.

Why are you still here?

I thought I was fine.
I thought it would be easy to just shut out the feelings, turmoil, and anguish that one feels when we realize we are not as wanted as we believe we are--
Yes, I took my feelings too far.
But you have to understand that you are not at fault, never were, for the things that happened to me long before we knew we existed in the same space between life and death--
Sorry, I need to catch my breath.
And even when I thought I was okay with knowing you do not want me, I made the mistake of thinking the casual playfulness with which you lured me was just a little bit of fun--
Fun? **** it. Can't be done.
You're not responsible for the way the others used and abused me, treated me like a toy to turn on and off at their leisure; however, you don't know how closely you remind me of that pain--
Can I feel empty again?
You made me feel too comfortable with my own discomfort, and I was not ready--but it felt so good to think I was desired that I crossed the path divine--
You make me happy, but I'm not fine.

It always begins with throwing stones,
Bewitching laughter, shattered bones.
I sleep on a floor made of golden straw
And blood drips from my gaping maw.
You toss me scraps from a high table
As I covet from my suffocating stable.
Your affection comes at a steep price.
Does it feel good? Does it taste nice?
You taunt me with the kindest words
But the sound of pride is all I heard.
Self-preservation is a skill I cannot master--
Yes, I admit, I enjoy a little disaster.
I am not worthy of love, only play.
Perhaps I will be released someday.
I love the abuse despite my rage.
You poke, and ****, and I am still caged.

Why do you keep me in this place?

Laying pathways of treasure boxes with tarnished padlocks is your game.
What have I to gain from this?
Slaps to the face disguised as bliss.

I can never be truly fulfilled
Because I fear I may be killed.
I'm unwilling to part with my heart,
Because I worry it is only a plaything.
Am I wasting it on you?

I admit I trusted you with ease
Because I wanted to please you.
My kindness came without tether,
But you flaunt as if you are better.

Why do I even try?
I don't know how to cry.

Do my cracks make you smile?
Do my stinging tears excite you?

I'm glad my grief warms you
As it leaves me dying inside.

I will not swallow my pride.

As the sun slips away to die in the eve,
I lie in wait for your thunderous howl.
My knees quiver and my tail shivers
Under intrusive moonlight so bright.

My claws rake against the fragile wood--
Would you? O, would you howl for me?

I give chase; though, I long for embrace.
A feline may flee, but she is flighty.
Nothing satisfies the hunger more than the way you sprint to me.
Am I a tease? Or does my game please you?

The hunter in you craves the chase more than I do.
Be you wolf or not, I can outrun you--
And yet, it is not my desire to.

I throw my race and give up the chase under the ghostly moon for now.

I do not flee you anymore.
I want to make you howl.

Do you love the ripples of my body?

Watch me move like water between your silken sheets and splay myself bare.
I am not carved of wood like you; nay, I am shaped like waves under a thunderous sky.
My skin is made of salt and sea, glittering under the weeping moon.
Drown yourself in the swell of waves upon my vast *****.
Swim within me and know the curves of my body as Odysseus knew his path.
Drink me like wine until you are gasping for air against my lips.
Trace the wide plains of my hips, caressed by ocean like a sunken ship.

Count my ripples: forevermore, they are yours.

Deep in unharrowed woodlands sleeping, beneath the towering willows weeping,
Unmarred by the intrusive light of dawn rests he, the melodic faun.
Upon right shoulder rests his bow and 'round his horns flowers grow.
Catching hearts of both maiden and hag is his unabashed and shameless brag.
With a flex of wrist he summons the wind and leaves all care and woe behind;
And yet, his rest is restless still as the forest decays and grows ill.
Great faun, will your goddess flourish once more, or will she leave you on the forest floor?
The faun laughs and shrugs his shoulders, ever warm as the night grows colder,
"No maiden, queen, or crone can refuse me place on her throne!
I am your heart's desire; and thus, the wood shall never expire!"
Deep in unharrowed woodlands sleeping, beneath the towering willows weeping,
Lies the goddess with her faun, blending star-filled night and shining dawn.