Always Thinks

How can I concentrate through his games?
His tortures?
His crimes?
He always thinks that I’ll say yes;
I need no help with these rhymes.

Once upon a time he wooed me so,
With smile alight and laughter.
Kiss me,
Kill me,
What’s the matter?
Isn’t this what you’re after?

And as blood boils,
He always thinks:
I’m beautiful,
I’m lovely.
Never stops to question though,
How will it effect me?

And now I sit here, writing this,
Snakes within my gut.
I know the thing,
The only thing,
That’ll lift me from his rut.

The pain I seek,
The pain I want,
I cannot have it
Ever.

The love he seeks,
The love he wants,
I cannot give it
Ever.

He always thinks…
He always wants…
The things he cannot have.