A Man Who Calls Himself...

Years ago
I can't recall how many,
You asked me to whom my heart belonged
I love a man in ill-fitting clothes
With eyes like a fire
And a smile as charismatic as a wolf in shepherd's clothing

I met him through a friend
Our introduction brief
The future so distant, yet close with anticipation
At first we saw each other once a week
Sometimes less
Then that night,
The night when the crescent moon painted the Earth
In a pale radiant light
We danced
We kissed
In that graveyard a few blocks from my door
That beautiful night
Everything changed

My mind was on him when we were apart
I cherished every excuse to see him
As a poor man values gold
When we were together my trembling worries were stilled
He adored me
He cared for me
He kissed me
He beat me
He yelled at me
He listened to my problems
He told me secrets
He raped me
He loved me

I cried at night as he demanded more
The craving dwelled inside my heart
And turned it a cancerous black
I wanted him
Only him

With sure hands
With those dreadfully sharp scissors
He snipped my relationships one by one
The cold blade pressed to my throat between cuts
Until we were all alone
I watched silently as he killed my brother
And made love to my sister
And beat me every night before bed

I remember his eyes
Once so enticing
I see his eyes now
Filled with manipulative rage
A madness of sorts
Now, I look back with a sigh
I realize I've become just another victim
A victim of a man who calls himself heroin.