Gra/ey Area

I am in a state of perplexity, stuck between whether you raped me or I raped myself.

Diluting all sense of rationality, a gray area surrounds me like a thick, dark, fog.

Its muddy, concentrated walls moisten themselves against my skin.

Seeping through the epidermis, the greyness coats itself along my inner shell, filling and hardening

within.

You’re under my skin, and I want you out.

But time cannot undo the grayed penetration; of me fucking you, of you fucking me up.

Your soupy, slimy miasma interlaces itself with my heart, my brain; my corpse.

Possessed, a lion aimlessly gnawing on a barren bone for meat, I am wrapped around your finger, your

ego, your libido.

Despite this grey fog surrounding me at every mention of your name;

I still, somehow, love you.