His Roaming Eye

My withered resolve crumples beneath your assault
your hands cover mine and I am lost
like a sheep, strayed from the flock, no caring shephard to save me
the wolf tears me limb from limb
and I, the fool, withstand, silly grin on my face

You tell me that I can trust you
in the face of all your blatent lies
and I find myself so direly resisting your charm
but I cannot
Three simple, stupid words fall from my
mutinous lips:
I believe you

I stand with my back to the wall
waiting for the inevitable
I saw you walking out into the moonlit night
Impeccable as always, and there by your side
a living, breathing testament to your dishonesty
her hands aren't as delicate as mine,
but she has the face of a goddess
and mine... mine is contorted in agony, always

Even as rage bubbles up inside of me
I tell myself I don't care
because you're no good,
and I knew what lay beneath your
not-quite human smile
as your hands rested on my hips,
as you held me down
and took what you wanted,
as you always do,
and I made no protest to your actions of dominance
like a fool, I relaxed, stupidly,
and believed
that for ONCE in my whole miserable existence
something- nay, someONE, could be so
irrevocably mine

And as I watch you detach from that creature
you've taken a fancy to
and casually glance my way,
as though you knew I could see you
and, justifiably, did not deign to care,
you smirk at me,
in those cold, calculating eyes I see nothing
except a challenge.
Acceptance, or loneliness?
And dear god, either way, I will be lonely
and either way, I can never accept
anything
in regards to you.