“And you would know?”Bitter is his voice, tainted in a malice he has tried to keep at bay.It wraps around tongue, snakes its way across his skin as he shudders,the never ending cold seeping to his flesh. He itches and he aches, yetface remains a thing of emptiness, devoid of anything but a seething rage,the screams of the night howling through his mind.He knows it’s the withdrawl, knows that this is how things will be, yet itforces hands to clutch at skin, nails digging themselves into his palms. It hurts, the flash of crimson he sees doing nothing to appease the hungerhis body has not become accustomed to. It burns, scalding him from theinside out, branding him a fool for ever believing he could forget.He hates this.       He hates her.He hisses as nails dig in deeper, face now morphing to something ferocious. Teeth gnash and grind, a growl ready to spring from lips as if abeast has replaced his flesh. It’s as if hands morph to claws, teeth to thatof wild kin. He is not who he is meant to be, not who he must be. Yet hewants nothing to do with that life. Wants nothing to do with her.Why can’t she leave him alone?This time a groan does escape, body lurching as shivers grow and painbegins its crescendo. It climbs higher and higher, the reminder to breathealmost forgotten as he is hurled back into the abyss he had begun to call home.               “Falling apart and       and being whole again doesn’t                     You don’t understand.             You’ll never understand.”