This is called loneliness.
This is more than what I bargained for
when I let you rip out my soul
and drag me in this underworld
of burning feelings
and forgotten people,
of everything that’s left behind
after it’s been used.
I feel your eyes on my tender skin
and it burns like venom through my blood.
But don’t you know
I’m becoming immune
with each passing second
and one day my gaze won’t be buried in the ground anymore.
Don’t you dare not look me in the eye
or run from my claws and growing scales;
Don’t you dare be surprised
if one day I bite without any warning;
don’t you dare say you’re sorry
before I turn you into stone.

This is called monstrosity;
this is becoming what you’ve always dreaded.