I was happy.
I lost each piece of my cold heart.
The proportions of me that made me creative.
Motivated.
Invigorated.
Eat my skin,
Drink my blood
like the red cherry wine.
I have to be in pain to write.
And you made it probable.
I have to be lonely to want to watch.
As you washed me in hair and tears.
Walk over me,
with your restrained ego.
I have to fill the void.
And like a snake, you held my
Hands behind my back
And induced venom into my brain.
I was stowed  
Within the belly of the hypnotized.
I trusted in you,
And I was swallowed whole.
But with you, I was happy
I was happy when you wrapped your hands around my neck like rose vines.
I was happy when you pushed me to the ground and broke my spine as if I were rotting wood.
I was happy with a knife stuck into my back, how ironic really.
I'm strung out on pain.
I wish to rewrite myself.
To leave the hiatus I have placed myself in.
Just..
**** it, I'm going back to bed.