Once again
You are conscious
Another flow of memories
Is bursting through your veins
Like painful ache of piercing knives
Awful flawlessness, overflowing perfection
Corrupting your bloodstream with agony;
Why is there blood on your hands?
Blood-soaked sleeves of your sweater
Blazing on your pale skin with crimson glow
Like redempted lovers in a land
Where death has already conquered
I cannot hear your breath
Restful beating of your heart freezes
Yet I will sheed no tears over your frigid body
My wretched ***** lover
You loathsome empty egoist
Who left me here on my own
I will not mourn your death
For it killed who I was
Or ever will be
Feb 27, 2015
Feb 27, 2015 at 7:25 PM UTC
Once again
You are conscious
Another flow of memories
Is bursting through your veins
Like painful ache of piercing knives
Awful flawlessness, overflowing perfection
Corrupting your bloodstream with agony;
Why is there blood on your hands?
Blood-soaked sleeves of your sweater
Blazing on your pale skin with crimson glow
Like redempted lovers in a land
Where death has already conquered
I cannot hear your breath
Restful beating of your heart freezes
Yet I will sheed no tears over your frigid body
My wretched ***** lover
You loathsome empty egoist
Who left me here on my own
I will not mourn your death
For it killed who I was
Or ever will be
