The reasons why it hurts

"My Skin" by Natalie Merchant

Take a look at my body Look at my hands   There's so much here That I don't understand
Your face saving promises Whispered like prayers  I don't need them  I don't need them

I've been treated so wrong I've been treated so long As if I'm becoming untouchable 

Contempt loves the silence It thrives in the dark  With fine winding tendrils

That strangle the heart

They say that promises Sweeten the blow But I don't need them No, I don't need them
I've been treated so wrong I've been treated so long As if I'm becoming untouchable

I'm a slow dying flower Frost killing hour The sweet turning sour And untouchable
O, I need The darkness The sweetness The sadness The weakness I need this
I need A lullaby A kiss goodnight Angel sweet Love of my life O, I need this

Do you remember the way That you touched me before All the trembling sweetness
I loved and adored? Your face saving promises Whispered like prayers
I don't need them No, I don't need them

O, I need The darkness   The sweetness  The sadness The weakness I need this
I need A lullaby A kiss goodnight The angel sweet Love of my life I need this

Is it dark enough? Can you see me? Do you want me? Can you reach me?
Or I'm leaving You better shut your mouth Hold your breath

Kiss me now you'll catch my death O, I mean it 

Recollection

Silence drops tears and blood in my bed. I can't sleep thinking of 

The soft white sheets touch me I move my body to the other side

I toss

I turn

There's no heat being - my bed has never been this big

I bite my own flesh and my hands and the neighbors hear

the knife cutting cutting 

There's no words I hear sounds it's my yellow bird friend

He still comes every night 

He knows  Silence, silence knows of my shortcomings

I fly under the covers naked I close my eyes 

There you are a nightmare of sorts the lost connection

You, incapable of giving

or taking because if you don't respect what I offered you

then you had me, but you didn't take me or my love

my love is still here and I'd kill it if I could 

I don't want to see Spring again

I toss

You 

Image: Cupid and Psyche, 1798 by Francois Gerard.