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I lie here.

   My pupils dilate. I sit tracing the lines which lace my pale hands, they are cut deep into my palms. Gashes. Not from any knife, though they are shocks of blood red. They have...

   I follow the lines down to my smooth pale wrist. Bruised and scarred. Present and...

You'll grow to love this feeling

Something dead crawls

My eyes are open,

A shooting star,

I'll hold my breath for you,

They say now that war is too deep to dwell on;

We spent a week of

You're like the smile of something dead,

My...

You drained me to physical emotionlessness,

The dark foetus of hatred grows stronger in the womb of my black and withered heart.