A serial killer but all that was slaughtered was only I - for she was the weapon, her smile the trigger for which I could never resist, it was like an addiction.

Just.
  One.
    More.
      Time.

Until finally the onslaught begins again, sparks fly igniting what was once a cold and decrepit heart, the sound piercing through the silence but then - looking onward toward the mass of bodies;

for every time she smiled or even grinned I died.

Someone once said to me “Sometimes the truth hurts more than lies.” but I know that’s not true because I lied when I told myself I could live without you;

You, you were like a clear blue sky on a summer's day and I turned you into rain. You loved deep like the ocean but I was the storm that rocked the waves yet I, through blindness, failed to see the tormented oblivion we gracefully fell through.

And yet still you smiled through your oh so delicate eyes, as did I not realising that our hearts had descended into sombre.

Trapped amongst the shelter of the forests beautiful sombre. The vivid light broke through, to which I gazed upon the new world. The one that you said would save your tiring soul from the nightmarish creature that was me.

I remember under your hushed breath in whispered dreams, you said;  
                
"The birds fly higher in New England, their songs
make the trees weep in the sweetest agony."

Helpless. Obsessed. I confined your beauty - sightless to the endearment that dwindled every time you drowned in the ocean of my gaze.

Until one day, an ache.

A scar to reminisce where your love was once, as you drifted toward New England.

I love you beyond what my language is capable of constructing.
I hate you beyond what I thought was possible.

You are my obsession, my thoughts crave every possibility of you.
You are my addiction, I wish my eyes could see the world without you.

You'll never understand how you defy the meaning of perfection.
**You'll never understand how losing you was like oblivion before my eyes.

I discovered her through the shallow eyes of my oblivion, a time where the end encroached upon my bitter surrender but my fall led to my enthral into the eyes of hope.

She was the beacon of light and I, well I was a lost soul forever wondering ever so close to the edge.  Her hand reaching for mine, as I reached back in the hope that I would no longer be immersed in suffering.

The vivid reflection of myself glistened in what was the sea of my own self pity to which I found myself immersed, for in this moment of time if negativity was my oxygen I'd be suffocating in the distorted reality that I once called life.

"When you pinch yourself do you still feel?"

A moment of silence, a pause.

I look up but it's empty, just like the void in my soul. I'm not old but everyone's dead, I'm not gold but everyone knows me and still I hear the screams and the cries whilst I twist and turn at night, my name spread like plague but no one got infected, only I.

There's no cure.

I'd be a fool to ignore who I've become. I left Promises broken, friendships torn open, relationships unspoken but it's getting so loud even silence makes a sound.

I mean - if there is a God, does he judge me? Does he look down questioning how anybody can love me because I'd agree that I feel the same, this life is something I've made.