I wanted to, I really did. Now I’m standing on the sidelines bartering my flesh. Just to see you once; last again. I dont mind it, not anymore. I’ve aged and grown to understand, you won’t mind peeling my burnt skin. You torched it with your eyes. Those eyes that reveal shame. You’re a serious caution, my aching disposition. Could you seize to exist, in the core of my mind. In the figment of my dreams, you are a bitter sense of reality. I am drugged for love, loving just you.

I dont want to, I really dont. I’m content on standing aside as you take your pick. From frauds and fakes and those fish. A few more days and we will call it quits. I exist, and you too – so choose. I still will continue to hate you. A posion to my lips. Flithy sink.

I’ve learned each day; running to lesson this pain. Of love, of ardor, of affection, my passion. I used to admire you. Begged to walk on broken glass, I ached for you.

Now, those lies you’ve unkept and I buried well daunt and flaunt against my face. They playfully caress my blushing cheeks.

I was blind. I chose not to see. Just feel. I feel ashamed of loving you. Thinking of you. Through it all, you wore a mask. Hidden once, now unmasked. Tonight I saw your drunken eyes and swollen lips. You held a glass and sipped….

I drink to you, I drink for he, I’m drunk on words, and the pain…it still exists.

My Fiction, Your Truth

Inside me, you silently die. I am cold, torn apart. Forgotten – you move aside. I resume my dying.

On the cold ground exposed – I am inexistent. My breathing is false. My soul is demised. 

My eyes, they gave out. Weeping and scorning my flesh. Persist I care not to resist. I am – I am bare and distraught. Do not please, I am, I have already been deceased.

Resume breathing for me, I am end.

 

Life. Living. Dead.

Pleasure me with anguish, and spit.

Bleeding, I am tortured.

Young we were, I still – shamefully- breathe.

Does it matter, if you never cared?

Spare me the subtitles, I ache.

I am your waste.

Dispensed from your rigid grip.

Seize and let me exist.

Let go, release.

I am and will be.

Alone.

In shreds.

“Do you love me?…”

I exist.

For you,

my with Love.

-Battle Field

older now.