Me not Walking

I can feel you searching me, looking for some soft spot to attack or some part of my body that doesn't have your claw marks on it yet. Those lips I used to kiss so much hide fangs and you show them now. We shouldn't even be in each other's lives. Neither one of us does the other any good and we both know it. But its this stupid fucking game we play. Like children. Constantly taking little pieces away from each other. Small loses and even smaller victories make for a never-ending war of attrition. When you get me good I smile and brush it off because I know that frustrates you more then anything I could say back. In this fight its not who is the wittiest or cruelest its who can hide their hurt feelings and shattered ego the best. I've had enough. I want it to be over. If I was righteous I would just walk or maybe tilt my head back, give you my throat or some major artery and say "Take your best shot." See how much you got and how much I got in me. But I'm not. So inside I'm sulking and raging. Plotting. Maybe I'll go lower then you ever thought I would. Hit harder then you ever thought I would hit. Crush you and watch you limp away broken. I don't want to. I don't hate you. I don't even care anymore. But I'm tired. You're slowly killing me-one phone call, one text message, one off handed remark at a time. I'm bleeding out and I hate to lose.