while your hands traced the curves of my body and touched the breath on my lips
i knew that i would be doomed with another thing to write about
that you would create bruises wherever your skin ignited mine
like the nape of my neck, or the back of my hand.
or my eyelids. yeah a very funny place to be kissed at.
or the spaces in between my legs
they will rot and mourn the passing of another lover another abuser
i put your name right next to the first man that touched this body they call a temple
and i call a warzone
i was two years old then, and i was twenty two when you claimed what you thought
was rightfully yours to take
somenights i wonder that when your brain takes you back to that room
what do you remeber?
i remeber yellow sunny lights
my hearts catapulating, my eyes blurry
my legs open like a cave
my body getting prepared to please another
to take refuge of you only to never see you again
i hope you remeber the last time you touched my body and
called it comfortable was when
i couldnt feel anything but death on my tongue
now i lay here
four prescriptions , ten suicide attempts later
trying to remember
which list to put you in?
where you a lover? or where you a abuser?
or where we so complicated in the mix that
i made a burning house out of my body
and burnt you down too.
i still sit  at 3am waiting with that
blade in my hand waiting to make that last
final call