love, the word

I awake thusly

by illusion or by mistake.

But either way, it is your doing.

There’s blood everywhere;

oxygen is scarce in this no man’s land,

and I am fighting an enemy

that I cannot see.

Are you satisfied now

as I swallow the shards of my dreams

that you’ve fed me

while spooning out

my fleshly beating heart?

Are you finally letting me go now–

are you done?

Oh treachery

cuts through cries of despair

like a hunter’s gutting knife.

I ask myself:

is this what you want?

Is this

what you want?





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