heart shaped space

The weight of this pressure as turned me.
Forced a change in me that none saw coming.
Willingness has shed it's utility.
Hope becomes disgust.
No longer is there a glimmer of trust behind my eyes.
A sort of diminished hatred lingers here.
Failing to even try making a disguise.

Where did I go?
Perhaps this memory is nothing more than the shadow of desire.
Things I whisper to myself to reassure the disappointment.
As the evening turn from black to powdered blue,
My thoughts of sick complacence stem from you.

Writhing tendrils searching for a home.
Eyes, in shaky desperation, land on nothing in particular.
These knuckles lost the ability to turn white,
Right about the tenth time the threat crossed your lips.