Deaf Ears

He touched her today, only in the most intimate of ways
She likes to whisper his promises into deaf ears
She can't know, she can't know, he smiles as he kisses her neck
Her neck is growing bruises from his constant contact
She exposes herself inch by inch but nothing is left
Nothing is sacred, nothing is good
He came into bed with her this morning, leaving his scent
His beautiful scent, she screams
But physicality only last as long as one is touched
And whispers can only comfort for so long
She is here again, standing over a cracked porcelain reflection
Of herself
Of him
Of all the things she's done
Of the affair she keeps to keep herself alive