You wrap me up in the warmth of your words,
uttered with a tilt of your head and a cold glint in your eye.
And I muffle up the voice inside me,
the voice that’s screaming at me to run and not look back.
It’s of no use to run.
I’m too far gone to not grant you permission to destroy me.
So I close my eyes.
And I try not to shiver against the warmth of your words.
It’s of no use.
Because I wake up with a frozen heart and realize
that the warmth had radiated from a fire in your lies
that has turned my body to dust.
You abandon me like the leftovers of a chain smoker
and walk out leaving a trail of ashes in your wake.
And as the hotel room door slams shut,
you light up another cigarette and breathe out its poison.
The smoke spells your new muse’s name.
I’m going through somewhat of an I-can’t-finish-what-I-begin-writing phase. It’s a horrible feeling.
To compensate I decided to post something I wrote around two years ago.
I hope you like it.
Until We Meet Again