You loved her less, for whatever reason—
Your brilliant redemption, your glowing new start—
And it made you realise
You were just the same.
That decay you thought she’d burned away
Had just been waiting in the wings
And in the moment you loved her less,
Her illusive light fading,
Your soul began to rot again.

I have been walking past a dead rotting body for weeks now.

A badgers body perfect looking at first and slowly watching the worms and maggots eat away at the flesh. slowly decaying and rotting and becoming nothing. this is life. this is real. and this is the truth. this is everyone's eventuality. that is our future.

The smell of death was unforgettable, and it makes me wonder why we try so hard when in the end we are just a body that will fade to nothing...

My body is the urn that holds my ashes.
No matter how I change its shape and design,
its purpose stays the same.

The body dies :
A crumpling
not an implosion
as I turn inward
on my own corpse
In a desperate gasp
for sustenance and revival
The result ? :
A flourish!...
but, then, a puff
deflation
The Surround caves me
collects arrears upon my vehicle
I am to make no feast
the body is the process

I always tend to have this desire when I adore someone. But something about you is different. As if all the flowers in my garden had no scent until I picked yours. I fear the smell fading away sooner than it hit my senses. The petals will fall and the flower will decay before it blooms again. I have to let nature run it course and I will see the true beauty to come.