My lover hides behind a mask.
She doesn't know how to be herself, how to own her inner monster
She looks at me with wide eyes Begging me to tell her how she should be.
She knows how she should be;
Hers is only to play with mine.
She needs me to think she is vulnerable,
She needs me to think she is weak and needs saving,
She needs me to show her how she should be.
Because she is too scared of what she is on the inside.
Her wide eyes, they tell me all
Of her scratches on the mattress after dark, when her screams are loudest
Of the dark past that made her like this.
Her wide eyes show me her broken soul, through which she cuts and slices at everyone around her.
Myself included.
On the days when her mask is off,
She screams and hurls and bites and beats.
She spurns and burns and batters and bruises.
She hurts me.
But mostly she hurts herself.
My lover won't leave me be.
I have tried leaving, multiple times in the dead of night
I have tried to teach her the right way of living:
How to love
How to be sincere
How to care
And how to be gentle and kind.
All things that she pretends to be.
And yet..
Yet she fails to learn them still.
My lover hides behind a mask
She weaves folks and fairytales
She engineers fantasy worlds wherein she forces you to live
Sometimes I look at her;
Nose bleeding, lip cut and face battered and bruised.
And I see the real her.
The angry, selfish, bitter woman that she is.
She holds a cigarette between her lips with her bleeding knuckles
She sits back in her comfy chair
She tells me how lucky I am to have found a lover as kind as she.
When she hears my whimper, she scoffs and walks out of the room.
The next morning, she is smiling again: Cupcakes and coffee in hand
"Good Morning baby!"
I know we're back to pretending.
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