well played, you clever bastard

The hunt is over,
you collapse in exhaustion
and I smirk as I remember that you are
so goddamn easy.

I'm the predator, you are my prey.
I gnash my teeth,
I short circuit your senses.

I shatter you with the explosive desires
of our bodies,
as we grasp, claw,
and heave.

In no time at all, we leave each other
because everyone leaves.
The crumpled cash forever stinks of your desperation,
and you pickle your organs in vodka;
an attempt to fill the space inside you where I
once fit.

Following instincts, I venture out for someone else.
Every fresh hunt is a ritual,
every act of mind-blowing destruction is a science.

You were as disposable as you were easy.
I grin at your memory.
But you were secretly my favourite,
and soon my liver begins to ache
as yours does the same.

Now it's obvious, you are the one breaking me.
You sense this with satisfaction.
You moan in pleasure from it.

Your lips crack open as you laugh with glee.
You had craved being the predator again,
your rightful place,
and you are a fucking natural.
I had been a fool not to realise
your dirty little trick.

You grip the vodka bottle again,
and again.

All I left you are eight straight, deep gashes
across your back and down your torso.
You glance down at the healing cuts as you
drink until the sun doesn't rise again,
and we are left in full darkness.

Together once more,
You rip me apart expertly, like an artist.
You have been waiting to do this
for a long time.

My blood creates rivers in the dirt
as it frantically leaves my body.
You look into my fading eyes,
I'm too weak to hide the truth in mine:
'impressive, you clever bastard.'
You are too eager to reveal the truth in yours:
'you belong to me now, cunt.
every part of you is mine.'