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I had no possession to give
So I cut out a piece of my heart
Wrapped in the delicate paper of hope
Allowed seconds to be hours
Minutes to be years
Decades of life we'd never know
Love we'd never make
Devoted his essence to memory
And before the moon rose
I watched him depart
Piece of my heart in tow
Papered hopes littering his trail
As he walked away from me
July 2, 2016
The painter was called
A portrait of Madame
Such a vision he created
What vibrancy
What life
Illuminating color
Capturing allure
Beguiling dark eyes
An enchanting slight smile
Resting on plump pink lips
The smooth ***** of her neck
Leading down to supple breast
Creamy, tender, full
So perfect as though it was
Prepared to accept her very soul upon it's ****** departure
Her ageless tomb
For this was the work of The Reaper's brush stoke
On display for all to admire
The beauty this life had once been
Commissioned to hang in his corridor
Allowing death to be sweet
Seductive
His enchantress to hell
Deadline met *wink*
I sat on the cold floor of my bedroom somewhere around 3am

Why is it always some ungodly hour with poets?

Anyway, I sat on my cold bedroom floor
Scribing of words about you, of course...

...They're always about you...

...Scribbles of words
Crumpled up into *****
Because nothing ever seems to come out right
The words don't fit

Your beauty
The depth of my love for you
How I ache for the loss of you...

...How you're the worst person that could ever exist for sending me to this hell of emotion on my bedroom floor at 3 o'clock in the morning.

Start again...
Can't you hear them?
The screaming
The madness
The fear

Like a knocking at your brain
Demanding to be heard
Can't you hear them?

Their voices
Reaching like hands from the grave
Ready to pull you under
Into tumultuous rage

Clothes shredding beneath fingernails
Wraiths twisted faces
Staring you cold with empty eyes

They don't even bother to hide
They wait beside the bed
Not having the consideration
To be beneath it

Can't you hear them?
Circling around and around
Until bile threatens to expel

Make it stop
Make it stop
Quiet the torture
This dizzying torment

Can't you hear them?
These monsters beyond the veil
I felt for the warmth of your palm against the doorknob gone cold
Searched out your fingerprints etched into the dust
Crisp leaves had made their home in the foyer
Crunching under foot
Listening for the steps to be yours
The hearth gone quiet...cold
These memories of you
Surviving in our eternal Autumn
Come sit lost knight
At the table for ghosts
Draped in webbed memories
Of victory and battle
Clandestine glances
Bloom and blush long buried
Delicate sighs of ladies
Echoing in the ether
Ghostly kings reminiscing of laughter
Wearing robes of sorrow
Lifting silver cups
To lurid lips
Vapored fingers touching life now gone
Come sit lost knight
At the table for ghosts
Where we dine on shadows
Entombed in time
But have you ever been willing to plunge to the bottom of the ocean in search of them?
Have you let their siren song take you away knowing full well that it could end in your demise?
But you didn't care because that moment with them was enough to earn you your good death?
Have you ever held the knife at your chest ready to plunge into your beating heart?
Because it was the price of their kiss?
Did you ever walk into the darkness of the forest knowing you could be eaten alive?
But as long as they were on the other side it would be worth it?
Were you ever too late?
Did you drown instead?
Did you stab too soon?
Did you get lost?
Were you the fool instead?
Then you don't know anything about love.
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