Most beautiful fragment,

You're a frayed photograph,

Your focal point blurred,

with the tears you have,

swallowed.

Don't tuck your fingers,

beneath your sleeves.

Darling I have seen the,

severed butterflies.

Which bit into your wrists.

Sweatheart, don't ever,

let my eyes wander,

over -new found- gashes

of vapid metal.

My sinking love,

with -emaciated- scars.

Running down your

-pronounced- ribs.

With every ounce you

tear from your thighs,

I sigh in depleted joy.

And weep to the

children of the sleepless.

To those who ****** their

bloodied knuckles-

scraped against a charred throat.

Hold fast to-

these horrid delusions.

To which you have conceived.

Close your sleepy eyes,

wake  for tomorrow's morn.