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Open your heart, he once said.

Inattentive I poised my reactions. 

I change the subject.

Open up, insisted he.

I stared at him with dull impassive eyes, 

like those of a baby's; gray and newly born.

With a sick desperation at the bottom of my glare I fixed my look upon him. 

I didn't say a word for I thought the look was clear enough: 

Please don't make me do this,

Please... OK... yes...  fine,

you asked for it, 

you brought this on yourself.

I'm not warning you again.

Not a single word was uttered and so I opened up. 

Thereafter, there was only stench and stinks and gruesome slimy muck and misery.

And there was us

Swimming around in it all, 

all in desperation.