mine

mine

every time we encountered

she would unsheathe her sharpened tongue

and proceed to carve a piece of my heart

for her own demented pleasures

i knew the day would come

that i would have nothing left to offer her

save my retribution

but now

i was still too soft for her

and she knew it

but i bided my time

took notes

i learned so much

during these painful exercises

of her sickened expressions

of love

i even learned to laugh

at my inability

to be strong

in her presence

and deny her advances

but as i said

she knew i was helpless

some how she had managed

to get in my head

and twist my reason

while manipulating my will

still

something inside me

was enjoying this torturous expression

of what i so wanted to be love

i could not win the race

my hope was waning

with every new sliver she sliced

from my innocence

she was my endearing sadist

and my masochistic proclivities

would not be quelled

she had a spell over me

and with that same tongue

she indelibly carved her name

in the inner chambers

of my heart

and it spelled

“mine”

© 1 September 2012 : William S. Peters, Sr.