I am your shadow,
and you are mine.

You cast onto me,
what you so long to hide.

Hidden away from the light of day,
a figment to you I will remain.

You cannot find me,
for I am hidden in plain sight.
You are but a stranger to the darkness in which I delight.
And yet my being mirrors your soul;
I am the part that makes you feel whole.

And in the end, we are doomed to never fully grasp the weight of eachother,
for I am hidden,
while you are in the arms of another.

I feel the fire begin to rise within
the belly of the beast.
I fear that the fire will consume me,
so I dim away its flame.

I go through the world,
a shell of being,
with a whiteness in my eyes,
but no longer seeing.

The flame comes to the surface,
but now I know
it is not my demise.
The fire is what makes me alive.
So I spread my wings,
and rise.

A face I once knew disintegrates before me.
You hold before me a mirror of the person I once knew,
but it is no longer you who is looking through.

Your eyes morph to stained glass silhouettes
as of the flame of your being flickers to embers.
The greater my cries,
the quicker our demise.

A cast of the woman I once knew vacantly looks through,
and yet my heart still beats for you.

What a love it must have been,
to have blackened the skies in its absence
and to burn through the nothingness that was once my heart.

The love between us was but a moment in time
but has carved itself a piece of eternity.

When I look to the stars,
I know they belong to you,
for the divinity of your eyes has looked upon them.
And so through the stars,
I shall always find you
looking through.

What a love it must have been.
For though you are now gone,
my heart shall always beat for you,
and even when my mortal body is through,
I shall shine through the night skies,
for you.

Can you feel me
rush over you,
as I drown myself in your absence?

Void of color, my lips seep red
as I kiss upon the roses
that you placed upon my bed.
My sheets saturate by the blood of your thorns,
hidden by the beauty of your rose.

Your absinthe courses through my veins;
I am a slave to your elixir,
lost in the prison of my mind.  
Yet I remain within the labyrinth of the memory of you,
for only in my mind I know
you will not go.

As I look beyond the veil,
I cannot distinguish dusk from dawn.
Only through this absinthe
can I bear the weight of your absence.

Before we met,
a stone mold held me hostage.
When we met,
you showed me the cup that
I had hidden deep within myself.
But I was not alone,
for your cup was hidden deep within yourself.

When we removed our stone masks,
with hands shaking,
we offered our cups to one another.
Each of us filled the other's with glycerin.
With each sip we took,
our hearts began to listen.
The waters buried deep within us were brought to the surface.

To not drown in our own waters,
the glycerin we gave one another needed to cease.
So we stepped aboard our separate ships, with our own cups,
not yet completely full,
but glowing with a glycerin
that at long last, had finally begun to flow.