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.

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