Tiny vessels oozed into the pores of your neck, formed the bruises that you dreaded from fading. You chased me away with loud sounds and violent ways when all the time through you were quiet and peaceful inside. I didn't hide from you. You hid from me though. Now is the moment I live in where I look into her eyes and think "she's beautiful but she doesn't mean a thing to me."
While I caress her healthy skin he's bruising your dying skin. I wanted to engulf you into a mass of love and affection but you can't teach an old dog new tricks. I reached out with a strong arm to touch your soul but you took the dagger from him and sawed my arm through the bone. I wake up late some nights, the nights I actually sleep, and softly touch the scar you left me with. I miss it. I'm a hollowed, rotten, empty soul. You made me me feel full, healthy, and whole. You looked at me, then you looked at the tiny vessels implanted and ran twords him. I'll pray every night to a god I don't exactly believe in that you'll come back to me someday.