Out of breath, out of energy...
I turn away full of guilt and disloyalty.
He puts his arms around me and holds me from behind.
Holding me tight before its time...
I get angry. I push him away.
Feeling the pain she would feel if she knew that I was with him again...
I shout, he shouts.
He stares at me and begins to soften his voice and says, " Baby, I'm sorry. Ok? I love you."
He gives me that look, that look I can't resist.
Feeling guilty that I might have used him and him feeling that way.
Having no reason but guilt to leave his ass for what I’ve done.
We start over again.
He pins me down, kissing my body.
Each kiss seeming to be promising.
Each touch saying he'd never let go.
Each movement meaning nothing, but what he desires and grasps for each night I see him.
He lifts me off the bed, fucking the life out of my little body.
As he finishes puts me back down.
I'm still.
I'm dead.
Dying to cry out,
but acting like I enjoyed our night.
Our monotonous nights.
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