Our End, Was The Begining Of My Troubles

Late night phone calls and hollow texts. We spoke but hardly said words. I wanted nothing but sin from you. Then I got involved. I wanted more, more of the good feelings I felt when I saw your name flash across my screen. I felt unstoppable, like I could rage on for all eternity. When in reality, I became weak to your hands. Weakness was something neither of us wanted. The warm smell of a woman came from your flesh and I yielded all I was to you. I remember the relaxed grip of your hands. The scars upon them I loved to circle them with my fingers. I told you not to worry as I raised those marks and kissed them softly. Then there was the secret place that was there for all to see. We used to go there often. It was here that I was worried of the man who came to check. We rushed to break apart. His eyes I think, did not see what a prey you were to me. But it was laughter I think of most, and the times I brazenly felt of your curves. Caring naught for our surroundings except when others came to near. Then I guarded you jealously and held you close. You were mine and I was blinded. I pushed to hard wanting something fast and emotional. I hurried you along and that was my mistake. I paid for that misconception. For with the blood of our relationship upon my hands, you ended us.