By Natalie Cribari

(Written December 25, 2005)

Through poison-tainted veins, I feel
A warmth that soothes, but is surreal
It’s funny how we became acquainted
He made me quiver, I almost fainted.
He seemed so cool, so calm, and sweet
He swept me off my virgin feet.
We fell in love, or so I thought
My soul, not my love, is what he sought.
He hid his identity with a comforting mask,
Only to disguise his horrid task.
With every kiss, he sucked me dry.
His soft caress was all a lie.
He came inside me; just a tiny prick
It made me lightheaded, and a little bit sick.
He abused me raw, ‘til my arms were sore
My cheekbones were visible
But I craved him more.
He made me chase him
And steal, lie, and cheat
He wore down my body
Until I fell in defeat.
He cackled at my pain
His full destruction of me
But I am too dopesick
That this I can’t see.
Still, I begged and I pleaded
For him to return
An ongoing cycle
Why didn’t I learn?
So at night I fell asleep
With him by my side
But woke up with no one
“He promised!” (He lied.)
So today, again, I make it
My priority, my chore,
To find him in vain
And again be his whore.
His passion I want
I crave, and I need
The rush that I get
Fill that indeed
I may never make it
But to you, I dear say
If he should strut by, look the other way
He’ll charm you and flirt
With his deadly advances
He’ll shower you with false promises
And convincing romances
He could come upon you, any old day
With that twinkle in his eye,
And his look that could sway.
This is your warnin’, so darlin’ take heed.
What he does offer you, you surely don’t need:
A handful of problems, a life that is dark
In no time he’ll have you,
And your gravestone he’ll mark.