Here you are,
I didn’t miss you.
Did you miss me?
My hands on your skin.
My repetition.
Over and over.
Did you long for it while I was gone?
Did your crave it?
I was better off without you.
Those blissful few hours passed by so fast.
As if I blinked and there you were, back in my face.
You mock me. You break me down.
You tell me I’m not good enough.
As our bodies combine there is no affection, no devotion.
Just bitter, resentful memories of a time you used to mean much more.
Each time I close my eyes I see your past.
I open them and you’re ugly present rears it’s head.
I hear your cackling.
Your criticism.
It bores deep into my brain.
A dumb, numb pain from the sound of your rejection.
You were not born for this.
I was not born for this version of you.
We can look back, longingly.
We can look forward with nervous hope.
For now we must just get by.
For now you’ll have to do.
And I’ll have to do for you.