The blood splatters from my nose
like a volcano erupting lava
and it tastes metallic
to the point I can't recognize
my own taste of nothingness.
The bruises leave traces of where
your knuckles made contact
with my pale, freckled skin,
and seem to fade to an unattractive
color spectrum of green, gold,
and a rich lavender purple.
I used to believe that I was your savior,
and the best of you was hidden someplace
twenty leagues beneath your skin.
Unfortunately I discovered that
I had only sinned among the most
experienced of sinners,
and I was never going to be the one
to pull you into the heavens of my embraces.
All that was left to do for me
was to leave you to your hell
and hope that it would bring me
inner peace.