You see what you want to see,
On trial, we are all guilty.

A heart shaped rock among others
Turns out to be just another misshapen stone when picked.

The night we etched our name into the stars,
The moonlight guiding our hands,
I left a vow you will never know.
And smoke tendrils rose from our mouths in the cold,
Drifting ever upwards,
Producing shapes,
Thrashing spirals against the midnight sky like dragons.

...They now sink like acid through my being,
They drip and rip, devouring my bones...

When is enough, enough?
These penance are becoming less righteous and more pitiful, of this I'm sure.

The fight left a ringing in your ears,
Shifted my vision,
Hearts removed with surgical precision,
And blood soaked my own hands.

I lost count of the amount of scars in that place,
Self inflicting, self surgery.
The spot where only an empty cavity will be found.  

You haunt every word, every line.
A ghost caressing the curves and points with fingertips as soft as flower petals
and roots that reach the ocean floor.

A neon cross on a black back drop plagues my vision as an ancient man chants from a book older than our ancestors,

While I try to make you a crown from bones,
With the moon at its center to lay at your tattered feet.