perverse.

It was quite perverse,
one may consider,
that closet you kept me in.
Impossible to be fully contained,
or effectively shut out,
but still under lock and key.
Illuminated through cracks,
allowances for whispers,
slithers of light,
opportunity to stumble, even to fall.
You tried your best, I'll grant you that,
to scatter the pieces,
stop the draught,
rape my sensitivity, abuse my weakness.

Do it again.
Catch the twenty-four hour show,
may seem old now, out of style, but still striking in black and white,
a thriller, edge of your seat,
twisted curiosity, I can't look away,
not wanting to miss a moment.
I absorb every minute. I know everything.
I only feign humility,
fascinated, excited by disgust,
but
steadfast in anger,
my heart turns to dust.