With Pain and Love

There is the minor inconveniences,

the turtling up and twisting faces.

I can see how she turns, cheek to shoulder, eyes cast down and then up with that glossy violet blaze. Shuddered shivers shake me to my waist, making my heart pound with the idea that my body is acting like dead weight.

There's something so pristine,

so ethereal to have her under me.

Tongues pressed, sweet kisses.

No hold. No reserve.

Breath stolen, and regretful words that linger in the back of my mind. Words that I'd never utter again, knowing I'd be putting barriers between us. Heartfelt 'sorries' and gut-wrenching 'I knows' will never account for the things I said or did, but she's here now. The pain is so serrated, like it's slivering off from me, shedding away with the old skin. The skin of my shriveled self, the part of me that no longer takes hold.

Insecurities can't take hold,

cannot form me into an uncomfortable mold.

Here, there are no secrets. Not from me,

when I try to unravel the depth of pain she will not let me see.

Short hair, fluffing against her shoulders. Lips pressed hot, molding over hidden skin. A modest girl, she once was only mine to take. Still, there is nothing to part us. No one to take her from me, she is mine. Mine and mine alone. She promised, she never would have left. I was the one that forced her to. Never again, never would in my worst nightmares would I ever utter such words to her again.