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Sleeping with the Enemy

Book By: Jennifer Brighton
Memoir



...her memoir. (a short memoir)


Submitted:Apr 13, 2013    Reads: 191    Comments: 1    Likes: 3   


Sleeping with the Enemy

I've gone numb. I can no longer feel his hands when he touches me--When he kisses me, my skin crawls, as if in an attempt to scurry away from the feel of his lips--the wriggle of his tongue. And when he makes love to me, my blood runs cold.

My love for him has died out. And, I cannot muster enough lust to continue the charade. I'm, tired--My body knows him well. My heart knows him not.

He is but a stranger who beds down with me at night. I prepare food for this thief, this crook who has stolen my years--my time--my unconditional affection.

Sparring partner, in love with the feel of my face against your open hand at the height of your frustration--lover who entices with the prospect of love and rebukes when I stumble forth with outstretched arms, why mock me?

I no longer fear being alone. I welcome it. I crave it. I yearn after it. I've but one issue--he won't grant me respite. He won't allow me to leave--

When he's away, I can scarcely taste the freedom. My blood boils over with the desire to escape--but I'm afraid.


Perhaps, I shall conspire to kill...






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