To love you

To love you is to be both the knife and the flesh, the sacrificial lamb; I am made up of needles and shower curtains, shaved hairs caught up in my nightgown stinging my tender skin.

The wolf comes to my room every night and stays there until I fall asleep.

I am The Virgin Mary's impaled heart, looking at you my own bloodshot eyes looking back at me, there is no meaning behind anything you do or think. Fern words tumbling out of your mouth in an unorganised manner; the cross on my neck feels a bit too heavy to carry.

I will split your stomach in half and crawl into it if that's what it takes. I am gnawing at your thighs like it's my last day on Earth I am a hungry animal that hasn't seen another living being in forever. Fisting my hands through your hair like I want to crack your skull open. Hiding my face behind the wedding veil I find myself becoming the lonely wolf with a hunting knife in its teeth, cutting its own meat apart. To love you is to be the deer in the headlights, unmoving, paralysed, painting its own faith.