..

 

My hands are stained with blood, as red as
the surface of the sun, from which I ripped my
still beating heart from my cavernous chest, for you.
I tore open my rib cage, and mercilessly thrusted the
jagged ivory into my wretched organ. All in the name of you.
Your preservation. All for you. Before you go would you be so kind,
as to drown me face down, in my own bright red blood? Oh, would you please?

 

Turn.Turn. Now, who are you?

 

 

 



WHEN . . . .

When water turns into blood
When the sun fades into black
When my heart pounds for the last time
When I will see you go.

 

I’m washed to the shore
Breaking into the rocks of loneliness
Aching my empty life without you
Drifting through memories of us

 

I know life would be easier
when you talk more to me . . .