I find precious little joy in taking from someone too willing to give
What fun is it to push, when I know you will topple at the slightest touch?
I want you an intricate construction of brick and steel
With an exquisite structural flaw, invisible to any without the proper eye
With an unspeakable need to fall in ruin
I want you tall, strong, proud
Aching to be small, weak, pathetic
Let me take this wretched height from you
Strip it away an inch at a time
Until you fit comfortable in the palm of my hand
Do you fear your confidence masks you too well? That none will hear you?
It is not words, or posture, or tone of voice.
It is the widening of a pupil, a flush of skin, a ripple on the back of a neck
It is a smirk, as claws reach toward you, slow and gentle, with shadow so heavy.
As all your pretty words abandon you
As you topple
As you shrink