You know where I've been.

I stood outside when the roof gave in
You crawled from the wreckage you were lying in
You're out of reach and we're out of time
But I took it all and toed that line
You held my hand and pulled me down with you

I told you what would happen. I give him a moment and he tries to take a lifetime. He sets the world on fire and I'm reduced to this in the early dark hours, finally free, sitting at the piano slackjawed and trembling, wrapped in a blanket, picking out notes with a blank mind and a ruined heart. He finds things stuck in that heart. Dark things, bad things and he tastes them, he takes them out and plays with them and he breaks them, leaving the pieces strewn all over the room and then I'm forced to picked them up and stuff them back in but they're sticking out all over and it hurts. 

It hurts. 

He hurts. And he's a biter. He's the kind of man that always promises you he'll be better this time and then he isn't. He bites and he forces and his eyes burn right through me and he bends my limbs far past what they can manage and breathing is a privilege not a right. My eyes are bloodshot, my head hurts and her little brain doesn't even understand why I let him get to her. 

Do I though? Or do I put up a defence and he can destroy me instead but she will be okay?

She won't talk to me right now so I can't answer that. 

When I was ten he looked me in the eye and told me that if I was his, he would eat me up. I thought he was scary and a chill ran down my spine but I was at the same time thoroughly fascinated, flattered even, by his intensity. 

Still am.