Raw

Raw

         You are not I. For awhile I lost myself in you. I lost my independence and my individuality, but you are not I. I see that now. I see where you stop because there is a bloody half-eaten edge where you gnawed yourself away from me. I guess you couldn’t stand me anymore. Couldn’t stand how close I was to you, the smell of my honest sweat on you. How much I knew about you, the muscles that I could have flexed against you. Maybe it was that you never let anyone else in before and you were terrified of me; questioning the sanity of my heart.

         When you told me your secret that night, my gut retched. I wanted to reach in and caress your heart in my hands and then weigh it against Maat’s feather. Instead I made you lay there with your innards bared and bruised. You couldn’t have hurt me more if you would have mutilated my body with razor blades. Covering each inch of my flesh with tiny red lips; lips which smiled at me and kissed me in that deep impossible way; lips that told me horrendous truths of your life. You gripped me tightly as you told me; grasping me in a way that disabled me. I felt pinned to an icy metal table. I looked at you, beady eyes, smirking brows, and raw truth staring back at me. As I struggled against you, your grip loosened almost slack. Defeat slid beneath your eyes. You thought I would walk, no run, screaming from you. Yet what you didn’t know is that my secret, my inner torment matched yours, no countered yours. You had the same wraiths in your head, the same horrific wants and trembling needs, the same pain of humiliation and fear. But you are not I.