The moment is still. Filled with anticipation.

She, a ballerina made of bone, waits alone.

And breath, and heart, and trembling skin.

What did she do to deserve such a tension scene?

Her legs light, right on her toes.

Her face so pale, seemingly filled with deep emotions.

Emotions of dreams she chased and love grown cold.

Yet here she is, standing with grace.

Ready to dance and hide...

I burn myself with cigarettes, yet you’ll rub my arms and not give a care

I eat bitter lemons although you like it sweet, but you kiss my lips without a moment to think.

I bite like a dog, while your hand pats and rubs my head with my teeth sinking in still.

I overcompensate everything you say and bite my nails and make my hands rough. You hold them with each finger interlocked.

I want to ...