Him: Part Two

I have been fine in my own company,
Though I find my thoughts pondering Him,
not in yearning but in sorrowful memorial,
of what had been, and what was felt,
though it seems to be that way was wrong,
that those feelings were not of me.

I can't seem to seperate myself from Him,
as we were so close and so intimate,
and I cringe as I watch others around me,
find love and fall from love,
as I have found no comfort from any living soul,
only from the lurking shadows,
from Death Himself.

I find myself a third wheel,
in even the simplest of situations,
unpaired and tossed aside, with no value,
I feel Him wrap His arms around me,
trying to comfort me,
And into His bed I fall,
angry and wanting to inflict pain,
though it only hits me later,
that I only hurt myself when I am in His presence.

He can see my anger, my self hate,
and He bridles me, mounting my emotions,
and forcing me into violence,
acting out my hearts' deepest darkest secrets,
and when I wake,
weak and teary-eyed in my bed,
I have gashes to prove the nights' dirty deeds.