-Love and Hate... (zadr)... even if one of us won, we'd still both be lost-

(sweetheart, if i owned it, wouldn't i be writing this somewhere for money)

ViRiDiaN

XxX

He holds equal amounts of hate and love for me.

It's agony, pure and undesirable, when the hate breaks free.

The rage and the frustration and the irken lash out at me - tear me up, break me down.

The carpet is crimson-maroon for all my blood that's been spilt, for all his too the rare times my self-preservation kicks in.

My body is littered with scars, new and old. Broken and splinted bones take so long to heal when every other day I need to use them or have them re-broken.

The hate makes his eyes glow - fierce, red and predatory.

It's bloodlust I see in them, lust for my blood.

The desire to maim, to destroy, to kill.

What stops him is love -cliché as it sounds- I'm too grateful for relief to search for the flaw.

It's heaven, simple and perfect, when the love shines through.

The touching and the smiles and the passion reach out to me, pull me in.

There isn't a room in his base we haven't tainted with love and lust and the mess there of.

My body is covered with marks, old and new. Bite marks and love bites and oh-so-many finger bruises.

The love makes his eyes shine - strong and pink and eerie.

Its confusion I see in them, how can an irken feel?

The questions, the unsurity, the undeniable need.

He holds equal amounts of love and hate for me...

And if he loved any more - I'd be happy.

But if he hated any less - It'd destroy him.

XxX