Lunch break prose

[wraithstalker]

Prose-seeding
Lust on lust,
Hate for hate,
Hurt by hurt,
I give you what you gave to me,
You gave without ever knowing,
I took without ever showing?
Lies untold, truths better kept silent,
I give in these lines a lunchtime lament.

You break down and cry,
say to me "Its perfect"
Your tears splash on my chest,
I give to you so little,
And it costs so much of me.

You voice and body beckon,
Actions speak louder than words?
My flesh is deaf I reckon,
Its pain remains unheard.

I never see the knife,
And now it's far too late,
Smiling you take my life,
A gift for me to hate.