A Cheek Turned

Do I not bleed red like that from an ink pen,
Whenever you dig those nails of yours in?
I’m sure you don’t mean much by it, it comes easy to you,
To see me in the artificial light that you do.
What am I through you eyes?
A robot, a mannequin, something to neither love nor despise.
I sit and watch the doll you hold up to the light,
To hug, to kiss, to clench at night.
Sure, smile at me like we’ve had some friendly chat,
But you know as well as I the truth about that.
They say cruelty is the worse crime of man,
But indifference is from where I stand.
What words are exchanged as I leave the room,
When I can’t hear, are they ones that you still tailor and groom?
Is there ever a moment that I cross your mind,
Inspiring laughter, loathing, or something more kind?
As you lie in bed, trying the stumble onto sleep,
Have I fulfilled the release needed to fall so deep?
No, I think not.
I will be forgotten once we leave this spot.
You will go your way, and I will go mine,
My thoughts of you to remain sublime.
While the drop that I am ripples not your inner pond,
And my king stands open, waiting to be pawned.