by JustJules
Copyright December 2004
He still comes to me in my dreams. I see him smile and nod. I no longer see what I once saw: love and care. I now see the demon that I see every time I look in the mirror. Even though I know I should not go to him, I do. I'm drawn to him like a moth to a flame. I cannot stop; I must be near him, smell him, touch him.
I remember wanting to be his day, his nights, his everything. He tells me I can. He asks, will I make the change. I tell myself that if he did not love me he would not ask me to make such a change. I nod, still unsure, and say, yes, in a low whisper. He smiles and leans in. The pain is unbearable. I fall, I faint. I've made the change.
END