The world around me
Shifts into an illusion,
When she stares at me with blank eyes,
With an ever-more blank voice.
She has been the ungrateful one,
For each of my worlds,
Love and survival.
To make her live,
Was to allow her to die in my heart.
And a tragedy.
Devoted to eternity.
It was a climb, to the finish-line,
A fate had waited in store, for us,
Yet, it was only her, who saw it fit to empty both of us
Upon the porcelain walls, as blood and vomit.
The girl in her, the woman that surrounds
These ivory textures,
The mark of innocence, the loss of virginity.
All of her body’s fluids coat the outward
Of this palace adorned in thorns.
I’d still take the blame,
Were I to never hear her laughter.