There is nothing left.
Even the ashes of love
have scattered
in the storm
of your screaming rage
Even the shadow
of my devotion
has been devoured
by the darkness
in your eyes.
There is nothing left,
yet here I am.
There is no rain
No wind
No sun
It is dry
and empty
lost in nothing
If your interest
wasn't a lie
I'd kiss hot coals now
To kiss you later
If your desire
to know me
Wasn't a scam
I'd tell you secrets
That others beg for
If you wanted me
With a depth
Perhaps my desire
Would be of consequence
But none of this is true
You know nothing of me
And desire even less
On wings of blood
she flies now,
the angel of
my undoing.
She scored her arms
and wings unfurled,
burgandy.
Wings that carried her
through my body
igniting nerves,
nerves that curled
like vines in fire.
She was pain
and now I am
nothing.
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