Four Little Words

“You are a monster.” 
I stand, 5’3, dripping with blood, covered in it.

“You feel so good.”
I lay, on a king-sized bed, as you slip inside my sticky, warm pool of pleasure.

“You are my person.”
I sit, at a luxurious restaurant, as you look at me with admiration.

“I think love you.”
I zoom out, as I register the words that came out of your mouth.

I haven’t heard those words in so long, I forgot how I’m supposed to feel.

I forgot that a human like me isn’t capable of loving another being

“I think love you.”

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