The Game II

Sequel to my poem “duology.” About falling in love with a casual sexual relationship.

In this game
the rules we follow are strict.
So why did I wake up feeling so sick?
I won’t admit it but I think that I’ve slipped.
Oh shit,
I never meant to go off script.

Your body to me is a work of art
so take those beautiful hands
and rip me apart,
then carefully piece me back together again.
I’m in the palm of your hand,
You are under my skin.

When you call me fuckin’ dumb,
When you’re rude and sarcastic,
God,
that’s the closest I have ever felt to magic.
I should’ve taken my time building the foundation.
Maybe it’s my imagination but
it feels like infatuation.

I’m a project that you love but sometimes you put down, knowing when you miss me again
that I’ll always be around.
But lately I’m exhausted and it’s hard to be myself.
Would it be alright
if just tonight
I went back on the shelf?

I need to pause,
my head isn’t right
but I’ll be thinking of you when I’m restless at night.
My favorite pain,
My secret shame,
I had the time of my life but I’ve lost this game.


©Black Widow 2019

(Line count — 32)