His hands were the blades the cut through my skin and my soul as he moved closer, touching my body,
shredding my soul, cutting through all those pain and insecurities,
piece by piece, savoring, taking his time.
He took all the secrets out and placed them on the side, safe. The floor was covered in blood as I come undone.
He moved faster, deeper, curious.
Days passed and my room was filled with blood oozing out of the scars he made, The bitter sweet pain, his eyes were getting glassy, my body was craving more, the pain became my drug,
months pass, years pass, and one day... he stopped,
covered in blood, he held my hand took me to the mirror,
blood dripping down my arms to my thighs, my soul wrenched and everything in me, about me, was covered in his name,
he turned me around, and looks into my eyes, I wanted him to kiss me, the intensity was too much to handle and my knees gave way,
he saved me from falling and… looked into my eyes and said “it’s over”,
his grip loosened as I stumbled to the ground, I watched him walk off, picking the bag filled with the love I had and the secrets he dug,
his footprints leaving covered in blood and the lies he told. The room was filled with scent of his memories, He never turned back.