My love had black wings.
At first,
eye connection was a scar.
He had blonde hair and dark eyes
while my Italian heredity drew him near.
My arms were marked with cuts.
First kiss,
and our lips met like magnets.
My cigarettes burned in daylight
and he didn't disapprove of my bad habit.
I began to lie for him.
Virginity lost,
we were married in nature.
We had a spiritual atmosphere
and breaking this game would be destructive.
We were darkness and light colliding.
His denial,
of psychopath tendencies drive me to suicide.
As if he murdered mercy
I had to let him go:
him a ghost
and now so was I,
the ultimate divorce.