Verona

Your cold lips press on my stone forehead

Your play presented to an unwilling audience

You speak to my deaf ears

And I pretend to sleep.

Arms compress my small chest

And your warm legs press

Against the chill of my pale dead flesh

You created a monster when you took me.

I pull away from your grip

Your arms tighten

Loves sickly embrace

I can’t breath even when you’re not crushing me.

I am not shackled but

I feel the ball and chain around my ankles

Or wrists.

Or whichever part you touch.

You love me and want to keep me

Safe and sound

From harm and health.

I’m not sick.

In the morning you’ll wake me

with a perfect photograph grin

and your teeth like white horses.

And I’ll turn and face the blank wall

You’ll whisper that you love me

You’ll kiss my back

You’ll kiss my neck

And drain me of blood

For years

I was yours.

And you, the vampire that you are

Removed my life from my veins.

I lay there in your bed

A coffin made of blue linen

A funeral pyre on dry

Carpet grass.

And in my secret place

In my head

I’m screaming.

I hate you.