who is this skin

my dreams have changed
love enfolded in rage
recognition
of your carelessness
of your naivety
of apathy
of guilt

like a child playing Russian roulette
the revolver aims at my chest
senses heightened
I can smell the rush of your adrenaline high
my palms sweat tears
I feel only terror

"I win
you lose
game over
now we both need to heal"
you whisper

recognition
of your carelessness
of your naivety
of apathy
of guilt

a hand brushes against my flesh
is this my hand?
what once was soft to touch
grows thick callous
forming over a deep wound

I don't recognize my own skin