If I see you around

For a moment he drifted off
and in his dreams I asked him;
where he disappeared to.
He didn't say much else
but he communicated this one sentence clearly

Then he brought his chest to mine
and our heartbeats bounced off our sternums
and after he falls asleep
the grinding of his teeth goes
straight through my chest

He never calls before 1am
because he tells me he's a bad person
I try my best to show kindness
and tell myself I've had enough
but he keeps calling
and I remain complacent.

Sometimes he has his sweetnesses
We were letting the water run
after I scrubbed off the mud
I'd gathered taking care of everyone else
and I was watching my hand,
my eyes stinging wet
when he told me to "look up"

In an instant I found fearlessness
rather than expose myself as
nervous, distrusting, and unable to connect
He was just like a nymph
all pink, powder, and fresh
His eyes were especially massive
starkly contrasted, neon green and complex
like a swirling galaxy

I didn't twitch or squint or look away
I didn't fidget
I didn't falter
I gave myself away
unaware moments before we could even be so intimate
since he only has the sense to think of me
after a couple drinks
and I never see him for but a few minutes in the daylight
and we never kiss goodbye

Later, I tried to tell him
my body shaking, that
I just wanted to feel like a person tonight
But I couldn't even get the words out

It must have been obvious
Because he yelled at me
and apologized immediately
Stiff not shaky, I didn't say a thing
he just told me to relax my body
and I fell asleep

I think I kind of like being used
It's perfect because the more I'm objectified
the less I can speak
And denial is a river I am drowning in
which is alright because I don't mind
gagging on it
normally I savor the feeling
in fact
I think that's why he likes me

I like submitting to my id
I love giving in
they used to medicate me for these kinds of impulses
Now we just drink whiskey
til he can't speak
and I can't move my lips to say no
and I can't think about
whether or not I care if he calls

By morning we'll both just be off to the next high
jerking off the syntax
til the next time
he wants to pretend he cares

He's the only person who ever held my hair
or cleaned me up curled in a ball
He didn't even seem to notice how mortified I was

He always sighs in the mornings
when neither of us are admitting we're awake yet
and I move my arm to rest around his rib cage

and He only sighs when he's happy
even though it seems
he's perpetually filled with remorse
Partially, for what he does to me
though he wouldn't do it without my consent

Still,
I wouldn't mind if he never called again