I see you, the person you are becoming.
A stranger to me, far from the one I love.
You come close to me; oddly I am repulsed by you.
I don’t want your hands on me,
touching me, feeling me.
I don’t want your alcohol-filled kisses
on my lips, or face, or neck.
That sparkle in your eyes,
the one I love so; is gone.
Replaced by a lust I don’t want to recognize.
There is a fear in me, a fear of hurting you.
You, so vulnerable, so fragile.
Then you come to me and hold me
like you’ve done something you regret.
I don’t understand all this. Not even a bit.
And what hurts more than watching you lose your senses,
is that you don’t see how hurt I am by this.
You are filled with concern about others, but not me,
yet I love that part of you too.
I missed you that night my love,
missed you too much.