It’s not the bleeding dark that’s resting in your eyes, it’s the way you say I’ll never break away these ties. Your hook, and the cadence that you took.
Look. Now I begin cry as your hand runs up my thigh.
You lean in to bare and clothes begin to tear. So I stare; at the cracks between the paper, those scratches on the wall. Your fever brings out the worst in people; not me. I’m the quiet little pet that won’t let a person see; your real eyes. And fear is his name, a crow that watches us. All I see is us. Through the window. Through my crow’s eyes. The window starts to haze, as you go and have your way.
Only the red mist obscures.
This disembodied madness is how I broke away your ties. And so what?! I’m still here in your chair, with all of me to use but my mind is in a place you could never abuse.