Bruises

Your hands grasp my neck. Hard. Too hard. I struggle to take in a breath, but remain silent. It's not worth watching your face fall, dissapointed once again at my inability to play your games. You whisper sweet nothings about my body, touching it in a way that makes my skin crawl.

I wish that just once you could ask me about my day or well being before entering our typical song and dance, your hands exploring my body while I use all of my willpower to avoid flinching.

If you were to ask me about my day you would learn that I am falling apart. Losing my grip on reality inch by precious inch. I've stopped glancing at the clock in my office, wishing your lips could find mine sooner. I avert my eyes from it now, hoping the action will somehow stretch out the moments before I must next sucumb to your embrace. Every second is a battle, my mind screaming at me to leave, my heart begging me to stay. The bruisies I pull sweaters over in the morning are just accidents. You never mean to hurt me... but why are you tearing me apart? Every day is harder than the one before. I need to leave. To escape.

...but I love you.