This night is too long, without you I toss and turn in hope of slumber, finding only isolation and shattering need. I ache, my heart a pulsing bruise, my body weak from all the wanting, my mind lost somewhere between your echo and the closing of the door.
I am barely here, gossamer silence wrapped in satin bows and weeping scars.
I have become my own tragedy, a lost soul wondering through darkness, chasing the fireflies of my imagination but never grasping their glow. My age leaves me weary, too many years have passed unnoticed while your hands dealt passions blows in the name of fun and inappropriate pursuits, but to what end?
My loneliness is a heavy blanket that offers no comfort, our love is a lie without remorse and you, my love, are the noose from which I will hang.