Desolate

A cruel and ravenous beast is loneliness. She is a sadistic succubus, vile and willfully soulless. She eats at me. She drains the aether from my soul and fills me with a void immeasurable. This hole through my chest, It is not a pit, it is a tunnel. The hollow shell of my spirit blows through it and I feel the icy breath of that frigid whore solitude crystalize the veins leading from where my heart once sat. She has eaten it, bite by bite, piece by piece, at a cellular level she has devoured my very being. All left is rage and agony. While the blood freezes in my veins until my eyes leak crimson snow and then they too become solid, open forever to the beauty of a muse which will haunt me to the day when I might blissfully cease to see through them. I am Recluse.