Breaking the circle
My eyes darken when I see my new lover. Fresh prey.
My body doesn’t really react in a sexual way.
It’s the devil inside me that celebrates the next conquest.
We exchange meaningless sweet words.
His hungry gaze penetrates my breasts and ass.
Another drink and laughter.
And then another one.
Sometimes I get very drunk or high.
And then I don’t feel him between my legs.
I don’t see his sweating face.
I don’t hear his moans and questions if I came.
I can’t stay sober when I cheat on you.
I’m such a coward that I can’t even face this inner monster.
It consumes me, it takes away my dignity.
It makes me do horrible things.
It hurts you, the only one who ever loved me.
Who knows what I really am.
No. It’s not the monster. It’s me. I am the whore.
I dig my nails into your soft flesh until it bleeds.
I am the one pushing you away, feasting on your kindness.
I blame those hard punches of my past for my infidelity.
Those cruel hands. Those hateful words.
I try not to, I really do.
I try to be a better person.
But how can I if I am just nobody?
You know why I leave. Yet you stay. You’re there when I’m back.
With your sorrow and cry and resentment and wrath.
If I’m broken because of my pain what’s your excuse?
Why do you keep letting me treat you like a stray dog?
Don’t you have any respect for yourself?
What the fuck is wrong with you?
And just when I think I have my own slave for life you break the circle.
You shut the door with a grimace of relief.
You can’t look at me anymore.
See, you’re finally free!
My inner innocent girl is happy for you.
But the monster inside kicks and laughs at me.
I’m left alone.
I dress up and go hunting.