water me

  my hands grasped at nothing, a marble statues arm. the pain of being obsolete brushed past my body as i ran until my legs gave out, but, in the end, it grabbed me by the ankle and devoured me whole. my boundaries render me futile, and my regrets leave my body contrite. to not be desired hurts more than being used, and he knew that, and he used that.

       i lay at his feet, crying into a hole that simultaneously absorbed and reflected all of the words falling from my mouth. my promises of obedience and unconditional love mirrored back to me as desperation and misery. i drop my gates, allowing him in any way he asks of me. i require no care.

       there are flowers laying somewhere on the ground, slowly rotting away although it sits on the very thing that gave it life— its so close, it shouldve just tried harder to live. if the flowers wanted it, it wouldve done it. it wouldve grown arms to dig, grown legs to walk, and laid to rest only after being proved.

       and still he stays cold, the stone remaining serene. my eyes grow and my lips fall into a cheshire frown, tears falling onto his thigh as i climb his body, wanting to be wanted. my actions leave him never moving, his face lacking anything. nothing is there and i cant paint him how i would like to. i am what i crave in him, yet being with myself will send me to cold, white beds, alone on a prairie. id prefer his cold bed to theirs, at least im already here. 

       i wanted it bad enough but it still stiffened in my arms after being brutalized by his lack of speech. i crawled in his lap, hands wrapping around his throat. i dont have courage, thats why my face is in his. i snaked down his throat, my hair clogging his airways. we are now one and only then did his marble eyes move.