I accept my own weakness,
what choice do I have,
but to admit my weariness
and dimmed hope

the sky is dark and damp
drinking the light out of
each star, consuming the
flames that flicker
across the universe

I am breathless,
each breath has been
taken. Inspected,
deemed defieict

I have nothing but
the clothes on my back,
a loose white cotton dress
frayed and torn, dragged
back each time I tried
to run away

I will walk up one day,
in a pain perhaps so fierce
it shall sit in again molecule
of air, each pore of my skin

I sigh, I am alive
but less so I no
I know death is no
longer in reach

for years, sitting at
opposite ends of rooms,
of words, knowing that I
only had to reach out
my head to hold his

It's all gone now,
that company,
the hours of counting
down my breathes
one by one

I am alive, undoubtedly,
and I have no weakness
of health except what
burns in my heart,
which boils in my blood,

my lust