Dear Daughter Dear Daughter, He will eagerly drink you.
lap you up like wine,
 then discard you,
 spit you,
 upon remembering 
his preference for red
 over white. He will caress,
 kiss your scars, forgetting that it was he
that bore them. 
The skin that is my skin. How dare he touch you. His kisses are cigarette burns,
 Sticky,
 An itch that cannot be un-itched, dear girl. 
An imprint that you will romanticise.
 Foolish girl.
 There is nothing romantic
About your blood vessels being torn. But oh, will you romanticise him. He will be your oxygen.
That funny metaphor.
 How much you will need oxygen when
 You’re on the floor,
Gasping for air 
Because he has left again. They always leave.

Beast You ripped out my teeth, my claws, the growl lain beneath my tiny voice, I couldn’t have marked my territory – Not even if I wanted to. Glass shatters, A scream – A laugh. Inside this wolf, I, I have the power to howl – Not over you, Not even the glue that kept us: The thrashing that kept us alive. I should have ripped out your tongue While I had the chance Shooting, spiralling, rhythmic dance of the tip of the teeth. Canine. When is the beast no longer a beast? When you love him. I have left my claw marks.