there is an endless poem
burning in my throat
scratching at my bones,
keeping me awake
like a lover of the night
and it is only ever
howling your name.

you picked me up
and spread me apart
over and over
leaving your notes
in the margins
and fingerprints
on my pages.
now no matter
who reads me
all they can see is you,
staining each page
with blue ink
and a hopeful heart.

we are nothing but ghosts
yet you've stained me
like red lipstick
on fresh white linen.

your love is both
the shining altar
and the smoldering
gates of hell,
i dance between
like a woman possessed
unsure if you will save me
or devour me whole.

the silence between us
deafens me
yet even in the darkness
all i know
is that there is a beating
behind these weary bones
singing just for you.

i want to unravel you
pick apart your bones
devour you so hungrily,
you'll stain my sheets
and leave me aching.

i have always
lived in the past,
dragging around
this melancholy heart
looking for lost places
or past loves.
i guess i lost myself
a little too much
in you this time.