Those promises became dead ends,
While we slept.
Familiarity turned slyly
On its head —
As warmth became hostility.
Love usurped by self.
Blighted.
Faded as the stars.
Am I disassembled?
Am I ruinous?
This perfect agony.
In the weakness
Of desire,
I became nothing.
Feb 4, 2015
Feb 4, 2015 at 12:45 PM UTC
Those promises became dead ends,
While we slept.
Familiarity turned slyly
On its head —
As warmth became hostility.
Love usurped by self.
Blighted.
Faded as the stars.
Am I disassembled?
Am I ruinous?
This perfect agony.
In the weakness
Of desire,
I became nothing.
