When there is nothing left of you but barren fields and empty rooms... you find something... in the bullshit cliché of life. Face down in angst. Raging against every God I have ever known. Strike out at the bottle as it numbs my fear. lip service paid to the appropriate bitch. Prepared for my untimely demise. Take a drink deep and long. Shoot the bullshit of life into my veins. Frantically searching for the passage to my heart. Stop it dead in its tracks. Lay me out frozen in time so that the worry may subside. Use the powder up until it's distant and obscure. Erase your eyes from my view and rip your god damn memories from my rum soaked mind. Release the Kraken and pray to the ancient Gods it consumes me before I acknowledge the weakness within.

I will bare open the jugular and slice insanely straight upon my wrist. Bare the bitter fate of Aconite and fall into silent suffocation. Soul released to tend to you and your sadistic needs. Cut open my heart and serve it warm and raw. Silver platter in thr hands of the lesser known.

I am lost and broken. Though far less broken than my love. The urge to miss you is too much for my poets heart. Selfishly I wish to purge your memory from within. Crush the image of our future into dust and cast it off into the wind. Witj the ashes of my life.

But that is not of me. For I will throw myself upon my knees and wilt beneath the beauty of you. And stay within my level of hell tormented by our separation and the want to conceal you from pain. Helpless and trapped. With only your mirage as my guide.