Masochist

She was at a loss for words,

As she was most of the time recently.

Her thoughts never stopped

Over thinking every possibility of what could or would go wrong

Every text sent

Letter by letter trying to find it to be something more than what they were

Words

They were just words

Which his actions proved time and time again meant very little to him

But the world to her

She tried to decipher every breath breathed in her presence as a sigh of relief she was there

Or every missed call as proof that she was on his mind

When in reality, the breaths he took while with her were just a means to stay alive

And the missed calls she had on her call log with his name displayed across her screen were just little things to keep her where he wanted her

It wasn’t because he wanted to talk to her

But because he wanted to say enough to keep her in his clutches

So that when he needed her she would be there

Untouched by anyone else

Still his

While he was everyone else’s

It was a sick game he played,

They played with each other

He pushing her farther and farther to the edge to see how far she would go

And her, swallowing back anything he threw her way, seeing how much she could take

Months now that back and forth game of tug of war had gone on

He dependent on her for security,

A back bone, a fall back

And her

Desperate for him, his love

His attention

But he didn’t want her, not really.

He just wanted her there for when everything went wrong.

When things were going well for him, she was useless to him.

He was a beast, savage

And although she didn’t feel like much of a beauty,

She looked for the beauty in him

And thought she had seen it once upon a time

Maybe that’s why she still held on so tight.

Taking whatever he thought appropriate or deserving to toss her way,

Staying even though she’d been told time and time again how stupid she was for doing so,

Hoping she’ll find it again.

Whatever she saw that one time in his eyes.

Maybe if she stuck around long enough, she’d see it again.