Love and loose ends

I dragged his body to where nobody could find him. first degree murder. I dragged his lean frame to a place by the chiseled cliffs, where the water met the golden sand. It would him a tune , as the ocean swallowed him and carried him to a place beyond hands, beyond limbs and beyond voices. It was the only way to remove silky Robinson from your life. Emotional abusers are like plankton, but silky was the flesh eating kind. He'd suck the joy right out of you through a children's straw and blow bubbles with it, watching your pain bounce up and down, your emotions become unsteady, and joy become an alien in your perfect Nevada. Life with him was regimented, like a concentration camp, your reality, version's pain. It was clear to me that no amount of running would help me escape him, his scent sea moss, the memories that framed our bedside painting an image of bliss. Yet the illusion was not real, and I waited desperately for the sands of time to deplete their resources. At times I became hysterical, looking myself in the him that he wanted me to be, wearing clothes that didn't covet, but destroyed every sentence of who I was, and what I stood for. I'd had believes before right?  What were those beliefs as I began to question my tiny footsteps that trailed mud and blood across the bathroom floor. This was his perfect resting place for this was the place I'd received the first cocktail of love with arsenic, of pain with a promise for second, of lies that corrupted my skin, making my body itch from place to place. There was no denying he had changed me beyond a haircut,and some teacher type stilettos." You'll get used to more," he would defend, " your needs have been met so little," and each time I fell for it just that bit more.


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