How long has it been?
Four or five months now?
It feels like forever and nothing at the same time,
So go and take a bow.

I see pictures of your face,
Tear stained and smudged,
From fingertips gripping desperately,
My heart still holds a grudge.

Those pictures, your pictures,
My heart feels like it'll break,
Shards of ruined glass,
Shattered open in your wake.

Except you won't,
                                                    You
  ­                                                                 ­    w o n ' t

You'll stay sleeping,
Leaving our eyes weeping,
Allow the Grim Reapers reaping
And ignore the blood seeping-

Your life bloods flowing from your wrists now,
You're getting colder now,
I think of those photos now,
My heart breaks again.

Cheerful words from her heart did sprout,
And her soul ran far from sea to sea,
The pen her sword, pages a promise,
The room a sanctuary for the free.
Stagnant water is living at her touch,
The stars are bright and pure,
When ancient monsters rise from dust,
Her words are the golden cure.
But when the ink runs dry,
And the light reaches day,
Her room returns to just to just a room,
A different monster comes to prey.
It's sly and it slinks,
Its hide a black matted mesh,
It croons sweet rotting words to her,
And rips away her flesh.
Its teeth are black,
Its eyes are red,
Biting teeth are drenched in ****** foam,
Kicking and scratching inside her head.
It mocks her, ruins her,
Her breath catches in her throat,
Death, failure, forgotten, for all its names,
It was ****** she wrote.

I can feel the love,
fading from my heart,
or rather,
it's not fading,
it's being torn out.

Piece by piece,
people steal it,
when I would have given it,
when I had given it,
and then demand more,
as if I'm holding back.

But I'm not,
I'm loving with my whole heart,
loving them more than me,
loving their flaws and insecurities,
their hatred and inconstancy,
while I let my own drown me,
in their wake.

Everything hurts.
Days, weeks, months later,
It still hurts,
Constantly.

Years will pass,
The pain will turn,
From a sharp knife cutting edge,
To a dull thudding ache,
But it will always be there,
Constantly.

And I'll hear her name,
From time to time,
Because it's a common one,
And no one will know the pain,
Eating away inside,
Constantly.

Or that you used to see her,
Every night,
You're nightmares painting her death,
across the ceiling,
as you lay wide eyed and awake,
The old scar hurting,
Constantly.

You want to forget,
As cruel as that sounds,
You want to forget her,
That you loved her,
That you lost her,
That there was no goodbye,
Just the news,
That she hadn't loved this life any more,

That the pain in her heart was too much,
It ached and strained horribly,
That there was no escape from it,
And while she was alive,
It hurt her,
Constantly.