Him and I sit down at the table,
Maplewood worn by scratches and stains.
I would hardly call it dimly lit, more like black.

I saw nothing but the whites of his eyes and his teeth.
He welcomed me back and I didn't respond, I thought we were long past formalities.

You've never met someone as sadistic.

He met with my mother when she got older, my father a bit younger.
And I -

He liked me best placed under looped ropes and over razerblades.

And maybe one day he'll get what he wants but for now

I will keep pushing him away