I look upon her, empty and brutal in her deceits. She fools no one but
herself. She is cold and unfeeling as I hold her in my arms; she turns
away as I lean in to kiss her pale lips. Her eyes close, not in ecstasy
of the moment, but in revulsion and anger. She screams another name in
her sleep, tears streaming down her dreaming face.
And whilst she screams that name, I hold her shaking form praying to whoever will hear that tonight she will sleep in peace. I brace against the bed frame, holding her naked body to mine, trying to keep her together as she tears herself apart. She won't wake up now, too lost in that realm that only the dead and the dreaming see.
In the morning she will pace the room, wandering like a lost child, dazed like a zombie. A blind eye she will turn to me, even now she does not see me. She never has and never will. Yet I am the one that has remained, desperate to hold her to me and to love her. And when she calls that name, I curse it under my breath, a piece of my heart ripped from my body and fed to her flame.
I cannot leave her, bound to her by chains that I have no key to unlock. Gratefully I would be burnt on the altar of her love, as a sacrifice to her pagan gods, only I have no spark with which to light myself. She remains a ghost in my reality; I am a ghost to her. When we touch, she feels nothing. No caress, no kiss, no body other than her own.
We sit, side by side, yet worlds apart. She in her kingdom of walls and lies, I in my temple of love and waning hope. She lies only to herself, she pretends that she could ever love me, but I know who she is thinking of when we are together in bed. I know who encompasses her thoughts, the ones that I would long to have been on me.
Lost in the times when that name belonged to her lips alone, a time when that name brought peace and love instead of nightmares. For her sake alone, I would have her returned to those days. It is so cold beside her, all of her warmth drained into a bottomless pit of self-loathing and lies.
And whilst she screams that name, I hold her shaking form praying to whoever will hear that tonight she will sleep in peace. I brace against the bed frame, holding her naked body to mine, trying to keep her together as she tears herself apart. She won't wake up now, too lost in that realm that only the dead and the dreaming see.
In the morning she will pace the room, wandering like a lost child, dazed like a zombie. A blind eye she will turn to me, even now she does not see me. She never has and never will. Yet I am the one that has remained, desperate to hold her to me and to love her. And when she calls that name, I curse it under my breath, a piece of my heart ripped from my body and fed to her flame.
I cannot leave her, bound to her by chains that I have no key to unlock. Gratefully I would be burnt on the altar of her love, as a sacrifice to her pagan gods, only I have no spark with which to light myself. She remains a ghost in my reality; I am a ghost to her. When we touch, she feels nothing. No caress, no kiss, no body other than her own.
We sit, side by side, yet worlds apart. She in her kingdom of walls and lies, I in my temple of love and waning hope. She lies only to herself, she pretends that she could ever love me, but I know who she is thinking of when we are together in bed. I know who encompasses her thoughts, the ones that I would long to have been on me.
Lost in the times when that name belonged to her lips alone, a time when that name brought peace and love instead of nightmares. For her sake alone, I would have her returned to those days. It is so cold beside her, all of her warmth drained into a bottomless pit of self-loathing and lies.
No comments:
Post a Comment