but that's just a euphemism, if you want the truth he was out of control
 

They were all fucked up, high on whatever they could get their hands on
Both staring at me knowing they had all the power
He takes off all my clothes, lets them drop to the floor
He takes a blade to my back
Its teasing my skin as he sweeps the hair from my neck and mumbles in my ear
The scissors cut and broken pink lace falls to the floor
the last evidence I once had control
and I’m thankful the knife didn’t slip and stab me in the back again

In the kitchen, I’m standing there, naked as they stare
I’ve got nothing left to keep, and nothing left to lose.
after all, they adore me when I look this way
The two of them have this way of saying "it's us" that makes it sound like a promise. 

He’s holding my arms to the side so I cant cover up and he touches my body, kisses my lips and says I’m beautiful like this, all stripped down
but this lustful-ness for my bare body is as misleading as when he said “i love you” with his hands wrapped around my neck

I wake up naked, feeling alone, on one side of the bed
bruised, confused and hurting, I feel like I’m nothing
as I remember the night before:

when he asked me about the earrings I wore
asked if the diamonds are real, "you know...worth anything", and if he can sell them
as if he has ever asked permission to take something from me
his words speak like an action but to his disappointment the diamonds are cheap and fake, just like his love
a few pleasantries before his friend leaves the room and he takes me outside
in the backyard, wrapped around the house he pulls down my shirt
he takes off my shorts and lowers his pants-just low enough
he kisses me hard with a tight grip on my body  
I try to say no, I ask him to wait,  knowing I’ve already lost
with neighbors windows facing me and my shameful body, an embarrassing reminder of my misery, I’m his misery’s company
so either fuck him in his best friends backyard…or leave
but I stay
I kiss back
a reckless inexplicable rush. passion fueled by a misguided desire to make him happy
the dark starless sky and the cold rushing wind surrounds the two of us
somehow the moonlight makes his love feel real
so of course I stayed

I’ve always stayed
and when the morning came, and the blurred night could no longer mask his cold stone heart, I run
fast as I can, I run, before reality can bitch slap me, I get away
and I think- how the hell do I still find myself loving someone who treats me this way
I love him so much it physically hurts
and I’d do anything to stop loving him and make the pain go away

the sun just went down on the next day, and my aching body freshly stamped with his bruises still wishes he was beside me
cocaine in his brain, his heart frozen and his hands numb, I just want him touching me, holding me, even if it's to hold me down with a frustrated grip.
it calms the chaos and the pain in my heart, because torture with him is so much easier to get through than the torture of being without him.