Decayed

The almost forgotten folds of time written in blood terrified the silly girl infatuated with having her heart stolen.

Yet, as if being lifted by invisible threads the fear of breaking crippled and fascinated her; putting her in awe of her addiction.

Her nightmares hung hauntingly like thick fog. Her vision dull from mist, she looks in the mirror seeing herself as a dismembered bride.

Cruel fate intercepted time twisting her life around. The clocks around her stopped ticking the moment he left her constricting the beating of her heart; with no sympathy.

She was drowning fast in her tears as the storm ravaged her heart. Her heart once full exploded inside her chest. Her cries of pain and sadness piercing the dark stillness.

Echoes taunting her restless slumber, “Don’t let the blood stain your precious virtue, my darling.”

She wakes with little enthusiasm lighting all the candles. Possessing a lively mind that made her shudder from the melancholy she felt so deeply.

Gazing blankly into the fire, she watches the flames licking the pieces of her heart to ash.