Dandelion Child

I found myself lying on the living room floor. My legs are paralyzed. Counting triangles and squares. Manifested in his lies. Anxiety the doctor once told me. Fuck it. Cigarette burns on quivering arms. Acceptance. The heaviest burden to carry. It's okay. I accept it. I'm not weak. Am I?

And so, I found myself. Stagnant. I am the past. Caffeine tremors and bulimic accusations. I was never aware of the consequences. The illusions of his loving limb. I'm swirling in and out. Above myself. Beneath the burden of his greedy breath. A cold grip of dissociation. Crumbling under his soft lie. I'm numb. Succumbed to waves of my porcelain heart.

"You are so beautiful. This is love. Do you feel how good it is to stroke? Touch. Sense?"

I fall asleep. Trembling in foetal position. I was a child. I am a child!

For him...

Nothing more than illegal satisfaction 

at a level too high 

for my brain to understand...