I melt under your touch.
But I harden in split pieces with the you words speak.
I fall fast on my knees.
My head ringing round with echoing cries of pain.
My vision so blurry,
Each blow seems to come from the same hands.
Seared fingertips burn my lips flaming red.
But I convince myself it is only in my head.
A kiss cannot band-aid the fractured glass of doubt on my table.
This is a different kind of game.
One I have not played.
Twisted vines grip my limbs down.
I plead.
I pray.
I am ******* the poison out the best I can,
But I am bleeding from the outside in.