Quindon Tarver: His pleasure is my pain

A Man Stands in the Doorway Like a Small ChildAngry FistsShe Lies On Her Bed Her Head Buried in Her PillowAnd She Stares At the MoonHe Speaks to Her All the Words Shes Heard Too Many Times BeforeAnd Pretty Soon She Just Let's His Voice Fade AwayAnd She Thinks...This Was a Gradual Steel FrostThat Started With Cold FeetAnd Ended With Numb HeartsThis Was Once Satisfying Sex But Now no Longer IsIt Was Once Filled With the Possibilities of New China Or Old StoneBut Now It's Exaggerated and Waterlogged no Longer What TheseHands HadIntended and Still I Cry in My SleepHe Always Said I Was Too Sensitive,But I Say(Chorus)At Least I Never Meant to Make Him Cry.At Least I Never Meant to Make Him Hurt That WayNooo I Never Meant to Make Him CryNever Meant to Make Him Hurt That WayYes It's True, I'm Too SensitiveBut He Takes Pleasure in My Pain.Yes It's True, I'm Too SensitiveBut He Takes Pleasure in My Pain.And the Unheard Hours They Fly ByShe Goes to the WindowShe Puts On a Nightgown and Brushes Her HairHe's Already AsleepBy the Time SheGoes and Lays Herself Back Down.She ThinksMy God, What Am I Doing Hear?My Bones Have Grown Tired of His Hunger, of His Gray Eyes,And I Feel If I Were to Stay One More Night Here I'd Die Or ExplodeOr Worse Yet Just Fade Away.There Have Been Days So Dark That I Felt Like AugustAnd That I Soon Too Would Turn to Fall.He Always Said I Was Too Sensitive That If I Cared So MuchThe World Could Kill Me That Way.I Wonder If He's Only Half Alive Or If He's Simply Always Been ThisInarticulate,Cause I SayAnd She Get's Out of Bed and Looks At Her Feet As Though TheyWere the Wings For Her FreedomShe Gets Up and Goes to the DoorIt's a Moment in Which Anything Can HappenInstead She Gets Out Some ClothingPuts It in a Bag and Leaves Him SleepingWhile She Heads For the Door.