A/N: About an ex-boyfriend.


Your shrewd eyes plucked me
Into your world, a target to be hit
Without my consent
You decided to make me yours.
Trophy, doll, puppet, slave:


You blinded me
Camouflaged for the pursuit
Shrouded against the glaring lights
Of those who saw you.
Slick like oil, polluting my world

Was I an easy target?

Still employing
A chameleon's language; stealthy lies
Tailored with purpose

I believed you. . .

You dressed us both:
Yourself in gauzy, spangles words
Me in thorns and sex
Our relationship in red and flesh
Practitioner of sympathetic magic:
If you preach it enough
It will become true

Did the jackals?

And now you paint a picture of me
My infamy
With venom and sweat and filth
And display my stripped, carefully-molded
Icon as a badge of your
Power and worth

Why did you choose to break me?

Another trophy from your hunt
Whittled down to a face value
Or your choosing
Your prize

What am I worth now?