The first cut is the deepest and
Every scar eventually fades,
Or so I thought until I met you.
Your words cut to my core like knives,
But pain is ecstasy so long as you deliver the blow.
These wounds never heal, but are instead compacted,
Making room for more gashes
Until I am unrecognizable.
Yet like the wisest of killers you leave no marks,
No telltale sign of your involvement,
Preferring to hide on the fringe.
It is impossible to see you come in for the kill
Until all hope of a rescue is gone.
Like a predator you close in tighter and tighter,
Circling me as I stand captivated.
Against you I am powerless,
One look has me yearning for my own defeat.
My strength seeps out as you pace nearer.
Desire replaces blood in my veins,
Making your whispers unnecessary.
A momentary thrill as your intensity turns to ferocity, then
I am pierced through the heart, your plan all along.
Next you progress to breaking me down.
Upon my release, the cycle repeats, surprising me every time.
I want to use this for my ToK presentation, if you don't mind.
ReplyDeleteIt's a very sincere poem, and relating with the poem is done, I think, mainly by having experienced the same thing-- which might be blocked by the apostrophe that runs heavily throughout the poem.