his voice strikes fear
your heart stops.
it doesn’t just, pause,
it takes a deep breath, it sits back
and stops.
even his fingers make you
dizzy, up and down, inside out
the words, the eyes, the dark
what’s behind that pupil
that scrape against your face
he wants your blood
on the hood of his car
your guts
on the cracks in his shoe
your trust
and love and hate
under his fingernails.
he won’t stop.
he just won’t stop.
but, that’s not the problem,
no, oh no
no, you just can’t stop either.

~ by kevinthomas on December 31, 2008.