Midnight thoughts

I feel like a fool when you take my hand under the table, like a prank when you address words of appreciation to me. And I've tried to stay away from this, or maybe that's the excuse I use to keep myself in your arms. The fear of loneliness is a powerful glue to hold people together. The fear of abandonment, of the unknown, maybe that's the only thing that has kept us together all this time.

I want to abhor you, curse your name, slap your face, because I know that the whispered promises your lips spill, are fallacies, vile lies uttered for your selfish pleasure, to have someone like you, you rejoice to see me confused? Do you get some sort of sadistic thrill from that?