Death

Have I told you too many secrets? Too deep in my well? Have I given you too much of my soul? I ask myself as I burn these reminders of you. As I sacrifice those memories to the pagan gods. To those who eat misery and uncertainty. Have I done too much? Dammit, have I lived with blindness? You slipped from my grasp, and I pulled but you were slippery. You died in my arms, this day, every day, every day since we last laid our intestines on the table. You spooked my entrails. Mumbled speech when you left me. But I cried to the Heavens for your rebirth. I gave them my future. And in return they gave me nothing. I think I died that day. When I traded myself to the Devil for what I thought was love. But you never loved me. You never loved me. You were only after souls for your hunger. Seeking refuge in the warmth of my sins. That’s what drew you to me. My impurity. And I traded my soul for nothing. I gave them everything. I gave those angels everything. And when i saw you walk on this Earth again, as if you never knew me I cursed the Heavens. I screamed for you, I sacrificed for you. I gave you the unknown Universe. Kept you warm with my soul. But your appetite was never constant. You hungered for me in ways never spoken of in romance. Because you never loved me. You loved an idea of me. And when I cursed those winged beasts you laughed like thunder. I have told you too many secrets. I have quenched your thirst. I have given you too much of my soul. There’s nothing left to me. And when I died you didn’t scream, you didn’t shout. And I knew, in that moment, that you never loved me.

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