He’s my enemy, not my boyfriend
(though sometimes
I can’t tell the difference).
He says his darkness
is in the past, but his edges
are still tinged with black.
He tries to hurt me,
but I’m too busy hurting him
to notice.
The more damage I do,
the more he loves me.
And when he’s bad,
I long to kiss him.
Smashed together,
we can’t part.
Pleasure, pain,
they’re just the same.
Walls cave in.
Ceilings fall.
As do we,
amid the wreckage.