“Your body is wonderful but could you be nice?”

I feared in your request,
the unspoken asterisk:
there’s more to change after this.

who am I without venom in my veins and fire in my lungs?
who am I without gritted teeth and fatal tongue?
how could I ever yield again to the vanity of lesser men?

I conceded
a half self,
a whole mess.

you already have all my skin and time
it’s too much to ask me to be kind

For a hopeful moment:
“I think I could try.”

“I’m sorry,
I don’t think I can.
We’ve done too much,
too fast, too soon.

It hurts to be around you.”