Every time I wake up in a room like this one,
I can hear her whispering in my ear the same sweet refrain
I fell in love with however many years ago.
The pages of marked up calendars lay scattered around
the bed as I stare up into the ceiling fan,
counting the rotations of the blades.
1001...
1002...
1003...
I've never lost count.
She hates my focus and slides her cold pale hand
around my neck loose enough to entice me but
tight enough to keep me quiet.
I refuse to look her in the eyes because then
I'll be admitting defeat.
She's never cared about winning though because
she's never had any competition.
My heart and soul have been hers since she first
slid past my lips and replaced all the air in my lungs
with her vapid sentiments.
She herself has always been the sweetest tasting thing
I have ever encountered.
A single tear escapes my eye and rolls off my face.
I cringe in disgust at myself as she leans into my ear
and whispers the three words I have grown to hate
more than anything in this existence.
I love you.
A second tear races to join the first
as my heartbeat slows to a near standstill.
I can feel her smiling next to me.
Every breath I share with another feels ripped
from my chest but she never left me and never will,
no matter how much I may beg and plead
it's truly apparent to me that she owns me
and I'll never escape her grasp.
So I turn my head and stare into her eyes
for what I surely hope is the last time.
Even if it means my eyes never open again.