I breathe in. Your scent clings to my pillow. I roll over, my face contorted, tear stained and red. I push my pillow to the floor and ball my blanket up beneath my head. I still smell you here. I sigh angrily and shove my blankets to the floor. I hold on to myself, grip my arms, curl up my legs. I squeeze my eyes shut and try to breathe. Instead, I choke on my tears as my throat begins to close. I’m suffocating here, with you around me. My nails dig canyons into my arms.
The alarm clock whispers to me, telling me how late it is with the gentle flashing of its red lights. I hear the apartment door open, hear it close. I hear you kick off your shoes and throw your jacket and keys down on the kitchen island.
You open the door to our bedroom, light pours in through the cracks, landing on my skin like spotlights. I close my eyes, my heart pounding violently, my stomach twisting.
You run a hand down my cheek, my arms, my thighs. My skin grows cold and my body tense. You plant kisses on my arms, and lift my face to yours. You kiss me sloppily, alcohol on your breath, perfume on your clothes. I can feel the waxiness of cheap lipstick on your mouth.
I stir, trying to kiss back. I feel nothing. The nervousness and anxiousness that comes with wanting your kiss is gone.
You grab my breast, digging your fingers into my flesh. I whimper softly. Your breath is warm and thick on my skin, your movements sluggish and insincere. The low whir as you undo your belt and throw it to the floor makes my stomach churn, my skin grows clammy.
I try to feel... feel something, anything. Try to feel the spark as your skin grazes mine... but the perfume. The perfume that doesn’t belong to me fills me, makes my head spin.
I remember that first summer, in the backseat of your car with the windows fogged up and the sun beating down. The leather was hot against my skin, your mouth burned passionate kisses into the hollow of my neck. Your back was slick with sweat and your arms held me close. You promised to never let me go.
I remember the night of our wedding, when you pushed me down into the sheets, taking over my body, leaving nothing left for myself. I dug my nails into your back, trying to find some sort of anchor before everything that I had left was gone.
I remember the first night that you stopped calling it love. You stopped being passionate and instead snarled as you bedded me, fucked me. Instead of gentle kisses, you bit my breasts, dispassionate and violent. Any love left was gone, and I writhed in pain.
I remember the night that you had come home angry. You shoved me down, pulled open my legs; you let me know how angry you were with each thrust of the shovel that dug my grave. Your breath was warm in my ear, you breathed ugly words as you threw back your head. I could have sworn I saw your fangs as you snarled in triumph...
I would sponge at my wounds in the bathroom, cover the teeth marks and gashes on my skin, my breasts, my arms. I’d wipe away my tears and brush my teeth, removing the bitter taste in my mouth.
I close my eyes, cringe. I can feel the joints in my hips growing sore, feel the ache and burn as you continue to use me. I’m crying now. I can’t breathe. You think I’m running with you, praising you, and you bite my breasts. You smile. I feel the coolness of blood on my skin. I hurt.
You took my body, and replaced it with a shell. You took my soul, tossing it to the wind as the sinews of my heart, my soul, clung to the empty vessel that you created.
I lay here, emotionless and empty. I lay down for you because it is the only way you love me; the only way that you want to love me.
You roll off of me as you pick the blanket up off of the floor and lay down. You wrap your arm around me firmly. The gesture is not out of love. Your arms are my cage and only in my mind do I beat against the iron bars.
To wrap this up, I would just like to congratulate you on achieving such beautiful pain-filled emotion. Although there are probably others who have a little more to say than just the praise that I have, I feel like praise is in order. I'll allow someone else to pick apart the fine details that could probably use tweaking. (If there are any.) Great work. And I soon hope to see more work of yours that is similar to this. ^-^
Thank you SmylinG for the wonderful review. I'm really happy with what people are saying about my work and your review really made my day. I'm just... completely humbled =] Thank you so much for your review and for reviewing at all. Most people don't take too kind to material so explicit. So thank you again, I greatly appreciate it =]
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