You see
though your
broken eyes
and tarnished
smile,

and in your
hollow laughter
there is
no joy,

is this
what love
is to
become to
you,

flesh wounds
bleeding
across your
soul.
empty spaces
unfulfilled,

or were

you just
pretending
to love
for the
longing for
something
more ,

the touch of
flesh upon
your bones,

so you
would never
be lonely
at night.

lying on
your back
looking up
at clouds
can do
that to
you.

make you
a *****
to your
own heart.

lying on
your back
with your
legs always
wide open

is even
worse.