“You’re mine.” Well, I was yours,
once upon a misfortune:
An attic-high attraction, head in the clouds,
too special, too peculiar to be any good.
And you, a creature rattling his bones in my closet,
watching me sleep with hollow, burning eyesockets.

The nights you visited would drain me,
and with a twitch of your skeletal fingers
or a trick of your unholy tongue
I was dominated and made different–
of body, mind, heart and spirit.

With your undesirable assistance
I created this monster of a woman,
all sparkling eyes and lit-up smiles,
a shiny mask of innocence
plastered to my cracking face.