Muscles tense; inhale, Release... Lame, isn't it, That I swab my tongue with lidocaine To drown out the bitterness of you? and me ...Numb. Yet again, I am greeted by smoke rings slithering across my skin. Impressive. Tingling, sickening, mortifying, and still, I remain...entrapped. Paralysed. How did you find me? How? I tried. Tried so hard. How I tried. Tiptoed softly across the hardwood floor Lest the walls tattletale, and Oiled the door hinges, damn squeaky door. Guess I should have bribed him too -- or killed him. I thought surely I blended in well with the pattern on the couch In your filthy den: mangled and faded, worn, dirty. Isn't that how you like me? I protest -- detest -- the pleasurable wet warmth of your mouth... Your weapon, your prize, I kneel at your feet Abhoring and worshipping your holey socks. I hope this time they are, at least, clean. Am I enchanting when I am at your mercy, Or did I transpose your words in my haste? After all, you must speak slowly In my inferior presence. (S-l-o-w-l-y...) You were unconvincingly concerned as Empty-headed freaks, cheery bastards Cracked my window, tore down the shudders, (shuddering) Rolled me in the molten wax Scalding my wits, grinding my nerves... You laughed, sarcastically, Amused at my feeble attempts to reconcile My sense of shock -- or aftershock for all you care. For without my keen display of anguish Soley for your entertainment pleasure, what is left? I hurt, therfore you are. But when I am done, you are no more.
