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Your frigid leer

brings a twilight chill

this midnight.

And how I tremble at

being moonstruck

by deception.

Hurt me,

the way only you know how.

A love abused.

Battered,

into a ruse

of throw-and-catch.

A heart flipped belly-over

for an open shot

at a stab.

And hell if you don't wield the knife.

But I'd rather be here

with the glimmering fear

of abuse-acceptance

than cry without

my puppeteer.

Please, stop pulling strings

that hurt...

And let us revert

to the futures

promised

by the past.

I shiver to think

Love is a quivering

shadow

from which your blows

are delivered.

A tactical chess chase

of an arsenal

after a naked queen.

Awaiting your next move,

from blood-streaked squares.

And if I died

trying to run away,

would you even care?