eyelids unwillingly close - losing
in the tug-of-war of sleep.
still, her face remains imprinted
beneath his eyelids, shining,
grinning down at him.
he dreamed of her, that night.
a sugar-coated nightmare.
she had a full-toothed smile,
she held a bloody chainsaw
in her stained hand -
skin the colour of pearl,
adorned in blood.
hair streaked red, vision blurring.
his last thought was incoherent.
all he remembers were her whispers,
full of malicious intent.
'I wouldn't be this way, if you
hadn't left me so broken,'
fear held him still, her breath
warm against his cheek.
moving by determination alone,
on broken limbs -
crawling like a snail, gradually.
patches of red and black colour
her once-pearl skin.
fueled by anger and hatred.
she is a wolf - a lone predator,
that silently cries to sleep every night.
wondering what she had done to deserve
this silent torment -
the knowledge that so long as she
is the reason for his nightmares,
every fleeting touch leaves him flinching.
now she remains two-faced.
one, a broken woman, impassive;
the other - a lone predator, the wolf.
some use two-faced as an insult,
but this cowardice is her salvation,
from tearing apart completely.
he hesitantly touches her arm,
a reassuring smile.
truly, she did not feel it.
for the real one he loved,
had left long ago.
too much pain and weariness,
ate her from the inside out.
now she watches in hell, as he
comforts a stranger.
like a train crash - she cannot look away,
with those aged, tear-stained eyes.
now she just howls at the moon, every night.
her sole way of wishing for his arrival.
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