Days, weeks.. years
The passage of time
means nothing anymore
Not since your final glance.

The nights grow long, blending until
There is no longer a scorning daylight.
Only this complete darkness.
Soul's essence revealed beyond mind's eye.

Lips burn still with the touch,
The acrid flavor of tears
Searing holes into more than
Just my tongue.

Shattered and scorned
I've grown weary of sliced fingertips.
Blood stained and broken
These pieces were not meant to be mended.

Don't tend to them
Leave them be
Star crossed and alone
This is what fate has for me.

It has been written, so shall it be done.