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Jul 2017
I can smell the cigarette you put out on my skin.
The sting, it lingers, but I am used to the pain.
I can feel your gaze, not love but lust from sin.
Still I let you touch me, in hopes I feel sane.

Your hands wander and I want to scream.
Tears are running but I am not hurt, just in pain.
You pay no mind and so it seems
This bed will always creak where you have lain.

I am haunted by the ghost of your touch
Who once took my soul from me.
Desecrated place, my eye are lifeless such
Without hope or depth for eyes to see.

I am finished here, it is over.

I no longer belong to me but you have claimed me for your own and left my lifeless body in the wake.
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