tell me, o lover, if you see me as junk
one that you can toss aside like some ******* ****
god ****** it, that’s how I’ve been feeling recently
and all I’ve been hearing are my returning pleas

bouncing off your ears, they ricochet
so please don’t blame me if I may
give up all hope, give up all love
extinguish between my palms the proverbial flame

that myths glorify, lovers worship,
fools surround, the burns of which, they keep
scars of their sacrifice cover their bodies
their faces, marred with anxiety and crease

but still, knees kissing the stone cold floor,
merciless, unrelenting, just as your core –
has done to me, stripped me to flesh and bone
as you condemn me to the fate of davy jones

heart ripped out, spilling flesh and blood
the altar they cake, our pasts they flood
arteries, veins, pulmonary, aorta
they are all crushed under the mortar

you wield under your hand, so very unconsciously
so please please please, oh lover
you do not know how much power you have, don’t you see
you will always mean the most to me.

your palms, they hold life and death --
the former, rekindled with the warmth of your breath,
the latter - soot after fast-fading embers
clouded with memories to be unremembered.

so
stay.
let our hearts be heard.
okay?
and maybe, just maybe – you could say
those three little words.

before they go away.