Hands as Weapons

I've had my high, now here's my low
Once more this smile is just for show
Who would have thought I'd be this weak?
Hurting so much that I can't speak.
I whisper no, but no all the same,
But here you are, yelling my name.
My hands as weapons, my mouth as a tool,
Of self hate and destruction; I've been such a fool.
Two people writhing, one in despair,
The other with lust, the former not really there.
Her hands on the job, an automatic motion,
A heartless actor, devoid of emotion,
She goes through the noises, the groans and the sighs
Yet never makes contact, not with her eyes.
Playing the part and repeating the lines,
Knowing full well the grounds covered with mines,
Living the game she thought she'd left behind,
Shocked and appalled when she turned round to find
That you can't escape hist'ry, can't run from the past
The past... hers has caught her at last.

The End

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