You thread whispers through my shoulder blades like strings of traumatic lullabies. You pull my shoulders taught with iron laces, your words the knots in my stiffening muscles. My bones corrode at the joints, and you make it painful to move.
Your breath is pure chemical poison, paralyzing my lungs and making it impossible to breathe. As my savage gasps for air rake over my aching throat, you exhale your chlorine gas onto the nape of my neck.
You dot kisses of indulgence over my skin in a way that makes me sick to my stomach (each one leaving a lasting imprint, I will come up looking like a leopard), yet I know that if I try to stir I will be paralysed; helpless without your once divine sort of air.
You see that I am not so strong. Soak me up in the remains of your venom. These are your arms, your fingers, your touches, but they feel like the slow drag of crooked claws against my back. Deadfall words from your tongue ('I'm here') ensnare my once purest love. A love which has become a mere carcass, hauled through the dirt and hung to rot on a butcher hook above our bed.
Damn you, Turkey.
Damn you for holding me when I am weak.
Damn you for knowing as long as I hear your heartbeat my own will be its echo.
Damn you for keeping me here, chained against your chest so I can listen to it until I am healed.
Damn you.
I need you.