Her touch was sickly sweet poison,
Formaldehyde, cold and suffocating.

Her fingers left a trail of bad decisions
 a path I still fight to undo.
Her eyes bored into me, hungry for a taste,

and I, unguarded, reluctantly let her consume me.
She lives inside me now,

in the restless need I can’t shake,

in the cravings I never asked for,

in the lust I fight to control.
She led me down this path,

through shadows of hypersexuality,

and I wonder if you feel anything now.

Do you ******* pain,

the part of me you left behind?

I hope you hate yourself,

the way I’ve learned to hate what you made me become.