Drink You In

By: B.M.

It's when his eyes drift downward that you know.

You feel the raw energy directed towards you;

All eyes on you, drinking you in.

And then you feel hot all over,

Like their stares singed your flesh

And you wonder what to do,

But by the time you've swallowed the ball of emotion in the pit of your stomach,

They're gone,

And their eyes with them.

You wonder, what they were thinking?

You wonder, what are they thinking now?

And you wish away the paranoia,

Estrange yourself from the premonitions,

Alienate yourself from the anxiety,

But your spirit whispers a cry of desperation

As you think back to those eyes;

A cry to listen to the signs, to heal what's being damaged inside.

Maybe I wanted it the whole time.

Maybe I'm as sick as they are, lusting after their attention,

Truly feeding off them; perhaps they are the victim.

After all, it was my curves that enticed him,

My neckline drawn too low that perked his interests;

My lust that engorged his penis.

Is that what I'm supposed to believe?

As I am poured out as a sacrifice to the gods in the temple of his heart,

Is that what I'm supposed to believe?

But I do.

Like a cutting knife, I somehow do.

Like a lamb sliced from nose to tail, I do.

And suddenly he has a power over me

That goes beyond trapped wrists and jammed pelvises.

He secures bars over me with each thought that I cannot escape

And turns the lock every time he swallow my mind, my heart.

Blocking the light from reaching my cell

Until he can't see me.

Until I can't see me.

Because after a thousand swigs, how could anything be left at all?