he's always watching
threatening
exposing
talking.
spiking my anxiety.
i thought i had been through hell,
but he was Death,
cloaked in honey to mask the toxicity.
his handprints are burned
into my arm
around my neck
my side.
my stress made me skin and bones,
he was grateful,
for no more eyes would meet mine.
the shattered memories
sit still in Death's yard,
unmoved
ignored
but nowhere near unharmed.
he stalks.
he listens.
he cries that he misses me,
convinced himself he's in love,
convinced me i am nothing.
it's  not me he longs for,
it's all manipulation
thirst for power
abuse
fear
but never for anyone to see
anything close to the beast underneath.
the honey dried up,
crumbled away,
the night he threw me down and cursed me,
yet got me to stay.
Death haunts me each day i continue to exist,
breathe
move
try.
try to overcome,
but nothing can mend while he's looking
searching
waiting
no, nothing can lift me from what i've become.
he begs me to return
to his box
his hideaway
his trap.
every day, i remind Death,
i am never going back.
he may wait and he may beg
but i am not a prize.
you cannot win me
gain me
take me
use me
now that i see with living eyes.