10 little things

She sits in the back to hide from you
you find her quickly you always do
a casual hand across her lap
a teasing tug a playful slap

your fingers drum along the desk
ten little things she's grown to detest
the weather's cold and she goes home
you decimate her comfort zone

tender bruises she quickly hides
with clever stories and witty lies
you claim you love her while you toy
with the soul you did destroy

The final act in your shared play
you go and visit one sunny day
you steal you plunder you violate
a bittersweet love turns to hate