Why do you do this to me?

The cold stings my knuckles as I quietly tap on the door knowing that you will hear it. I admonish myself yet again for not using my palm, knowing the bone on would tapping wood only cause pain. Footsteps echo in my head as I hear you approach the door and turn the handle. You know it is me, you knew I was coming the polite call that I placed first is always a warning.

I often wonder how you deal with the thoughts that float through the air between us. I can’t read you like I read everyone else and this is a good thing because despite the reason I am here I really don’t want to know. The door opens in a rush of warmth, you must have the heat on or maybe it is just my body reacting to the cat like grace you use to step aside to let me in. I move forward slowly, cautiously, still afraid you will spook like the wild thing that you are. Walking past you making sure that no part of you touches me because the tiniest touch will have me undone. Sitting down on the worn sofa my hand automatically reaches out to pet the feline that stretches lazily on the armrest. Touching the feline is almost as natural a gesture as it was to touch you. Soon the others are there curling around my legs asking quietly for the attention that they know instinctively that I will give them because they are as much a part of you as anything else in the room.

I watch you for a moment as you move through the house only glancing up to meet your soft brown eyes with their almost girlish lashes for a moment as you set the usual choice of beverage down next to me. Not a word is spoken, even though your voice would send a shockwave up my spine. You move to the chair that normally sits near your desk. Your eyes flitting over what covers the wall before resting on me for a brief moment and then on the television that plays an inane drama that neither of us is interested in. After a moment of indecision you move closer to me making me wonder if you know how dangerous you are to me. How addictive you are.

I am almost sure that you do. You use it well to control me without making it seem like that is what you are doing. I watch you out of the corner of my eye, my hand still moving restlessly over the cat soft fur sliding through my fingers. You speak softly telling me about the things that you do and those that you wish that you were doing. I listen more to the timber of your voice than the actual words. One of these days you will catch me listening to you rather than what you are saying, trying to understand why the voices quiet and the glass doesn’t seem as sharp when I am this close to you. I am tempted to reach out and touch you but am afraid that you will dissolve into darknesscheshire

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About Killingdanse

I am the girl that was pretty but too smart. I am the girl that you sat and discussed horror movies, sci-fi novels, and molecular genetics with but were scared of because sometimes you saw the darkness peak out from inside me.
This entry was posted in Broken, Fractured, Sex or stunning lack thereof., want and tagged , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , . Bookmark the permalink.

2 Responses to Why do you do this to me?

  1. Carpet says:

    of course like your website however you need to take a look at the spelling on quite a few of your posts. A number of them are rife with spelling issues and I find it very troublesome to inform the truth however Ill definitely come back again.

    • Killingdanse says:

      I openly welcome any comments and often retrieve some of them from spam because that is where some legit comments end up. It may take a few days but I also approve all comments except for those that are obviously spam. I found this one under spam which it probably is from someone named Carpet. Tell me what is wrong with this comment

      “of course like your website however you need to take a look at the spelling on quite a few of your posts. A number of them are rife with spelling issues and I find it very troublesome to inform the truth however I�ll definitely come back again.”

      Providing for abbreviation I ignored the beginning of it. Now I need to take a look at my spelling on quite a few of my posts… umm aside from the Latin which comes up spelled wrong because oh well let’s see IT ISN’T IN ENGLISH there is nothing spelled wrong. I am just neurotic enough to check. Can someone how to inform the truth? I definitely would like to speak with the Truth just because it might be fun but to inform him of something might be a bit insulting. Now I understand coming back again there are many blogs I follow spelled wrong or not but I do know the html for an ‘.

      For my readers I am sorry for this rant but the teacher in me twitches when someone says I spelled something wrong. I worked very hard to learn both English spelling and grammar (no it is not my first language) and it annoys me to no end to have someone say my posts are rife with spelling errors by someone who obviously needs a lesson in grammar, html, and apparently spelling. Hey even the term schizophrenic architects is spelled right.

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