Come with me love.
Leave a trail of blood wherever you go so I can find you once more.
It’s okay to cry,
The sea won’t hurt if a few more salty drops fall into its waters.
I’m thinking of a song you used to sing bellow your breath.
One about lust and the sound of your bones breaking.
Crushed under the weight of my desires.
Did I do this to you?
Did I leave you limp and lifeless.
Did I steal your hopes, take away your inspiration?
Did I condense you into a few verses.
Did I reduce you to liquid ink,
Did I drop a few coffee stains on your skin on a sleepless night.
Did I bleed you and leave you out to dry…
On a hanger with all my other lovers.
Unknowingly vicious, an innocent criminal.
Did I stab you with lexicon,
Did I kill you with verses and bury your weightless body in metaphors.
Can you breath still, can you hear me from down under?
If you can, I am so sorry.
I am sorry I used you for art, for turning you into another journal entry.
But as long as there is still an ounce of blood left in your veins…
There will be poetry.