Every time I want to leave but just one look in those obsidian pools and it grounds my feet. His eyes draw me in and binds me to him with thorns. A cage. when did my own home and comfort become my own personal hell and despair. Its been too long I had not realized. The power. The power he holds over me is overwhelming, choking my feelings and reinstating them with his own.

I am killing her, I know that. slowly draining her life away. The power is just so addicting, exhilarating. I can’t bring myself to stop. I know I keep taking too much, its beginning to show. her beautiful jewels for eyes have turned hollow, her soft petal-like skin has become coarse paper. So killing her I will continue to enjoy,
watching until she fades away.
My beautiful,broken, withered toy.

This poem was written/submitted by Misery & Pleasure.