If only the phantom gashes you inflicted in my chest were as shallow as my breath at this very moment.
But they are not.
They are deep, dark, gaping.
Is it to see the effects your actions have on my insides that you wrench them open every so often?
I am your sick lab rat. Your pet freak.
How many minutes do you have to hold that pillow over my head till I suffocate?
How far will you bend me over till my back breaks?
Who wants to know? You do.
You go too far. But I won’t tell you because
I am silenced by your mouth on mine, as you tear my flesh apart with your bare hands.
What it is you are looking for, I will never know.
You've called me your bitch so many times, I believe you now.
So your bitch I’ll be.
Go ahead, use me.
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