The ending to your voice haunts me
Late at night when I'm tearing into my flesh
with words I've cut from train wrecks and false hopes
I can hear the echo of your presence creep onto me
with my numb heart beating pacedly
and raptures of flesh rupturing,
my spine tingles in sensations I've longed for years to grasp within me,
these fleeting moments fleeing my wanting arms
turning me inside out, spilling this ink on splintered handrails
exposing my ribs for you like a delicacy you have yet to enjoy but readily dig into
my cavities craving, devouring languidly from your wistful whispers
the faintest sketch of your ghost whistling past my ear
like the way I've known how you could laugh all along
these splinters scriven into the palms of my hands
as Dawn rises with practiced perfection on the outside world
the coldness of breath overtakes me filling my lungs with icy lavishness
The ending to your voice haunts me from worlds I've never known
and from worlds I've longed to be a part of.