Poem of Filth

Her clothes scattered like leaves,
I watch her eyes pounce from one side to the other. 
Deep cuts,
blood pouring,
rivers of pain.
I feel her twist my body into position. 
Sliding a silk noose around my neck,
my skin cracks as my mind breaks.
She doesn't breathe. She just acts.
Mouthing sadness, she one-by-one pulls off the first layer of skin. 
Never the right amount of beauty. 
Never the right amount of anything.
I want to love her with every inch of my being. 
I want her to eat my body alive. 
So much torment. It is part of the process,  
I have become one of them. 
"I only exist for you." I whisper.
She laughed. 
"Then you don't exist at all."