past life

My heart is filled with darkness remembering shards of broken glass, picking up each splinter watching fingers bleed numb, because it’s done. My beacon. My angel. Plethora of prophecy saving me from demon arts, he handled the knife and pushed it slowly, twisting my broken arms. Alarmed. Shocked. Spitting out broken teeth and blood. You’re meant to love me not harm the spirit that actions your will. You grin. In satisfaction admiring the bit of me you’ve killed. I lie still. Wondering how it turned from radiance to a grim ill. Rain drops slide down the glass, my tears stain the windowsill. My cheekbones shattered, tired from wondering if the bruises will heal. Classic matters. Denied love by a man who is…

ink is free, so...

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