Ice For Blood

Crumpled up poem I wrote 
when I thought he was good 

Broken glass along my warpath 
when I found out who he was 

No daylight between us 
wherever we walked or stood 

Now I lay in bed without him 
wishing I had ice for blood 

A mask of patient attentiveness 
he wore when he ignored me 

Sadistic glare I used to brush off 
Convincing myself I imagined it 

Instinct he and I both called paranoia 
that I know now was my earliest warning 

Questions that will never be answered 
like how did I earn his animus 

When I thought we were dating he was casing 
all I had to decide what was worth stealing 

If he ever gets near me again I'll be furious 
assuming I've regained feeling