A Letter to My Lover

I think of you,
when it’s inappropriate.
When I should keep my thoughts to myself,
you haunt my dreams
and invade my quiet thoughts.
You’re in the lipstick I choose,
in the perfume on my neck.
You bring inspiration, pleasure, pain.
You make me hate myself for what I feel.
You make me curse who I am
when you’re not around.
You make me want to be all things at all times.
You make me want to rip out my heart
and bury it deep where no love can find it.
Bleed my thoughts on the cold ground.
Throw myself into the fire,
the smell of flesh burning, bubbling.
Stealing all that I have left.
I want to sink the dagger deeper and deeper into my chest
until my life is extinguished and my heart beats no more.
Because you’ve seen me.
You’ve seen the parts that are kept in hiding.
Parts that are only for me and my pillow.
Parts that show that I’m human and can be hurt.
And you know that you have me
Raw, exposed and bloody, I crawl at your feet
And time and again,
You kick me in the teeth.
But how do we know pleasure,
If without the pain?
And how sweet is the winning
without losing again?