I am patched together from squares of devotion and fabric glue. My darling doll lay fetal on the floor. A halo of hemorrhaged effort as her chalk outline.
As I crouch on fluid-filled knees, she shudders. Wracked by the throes of dissonance. She rises on unseen strings of indignant rage. Simultaneously pulled apart and held together by snap decisions. Centered by victims theory. Weighted with the lead of options lacking.
With dead and alien eyes, she bores a stare of years-nurtured hatred into me. Drills a pair of cavities into me with her eyes named Shame and Blame.
I do not resist.
Soft, angelic hands- guided by circular philosophy- split me asunder, again. Split me apart at resewn seams. Split me, split me, split me.
I am no more a man of complexity and dynamics. A demon with a scorpion's tail is all that remains when she has finished rebuilding herself from my destruction.
I offer no defense. Each lusting and loving cord pulled free from me is hers to rescind. I have no fundamental claim to it, despite my once privileged position. I watch in silence, spilling apart. I watch in silence, mouth sutured close. I watch in silence, and sob tears of grime.
I desperately search her face, her movements, her eyes, for any sign of cognizance. Any sign of hesitation. Any sign of longing.
For any sign at all.
11:39 p.m. - 2014-12-10
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