Abscess

I wonder what will be left of the family who gave me the keys to the car of death and let me drive into the flood?
            And what will be left of you when all you can do is lie down on poppies and inhale death?
            I wonder what will be left of me. 
Me, as I cut my eyes red and raw with a disinfected razor blade to lance an abscess of shame. 
There’s no bacteria to be found here, just the fact that I came to realize what I am too little too late.
Then there’s you, in an opium-laced dream.
Close your eyes, and part your lips, my sweetest ----
 
You’re always sleeping now.
If you are not sleeping you are blind to the world, love. You are blind to love, love.
And I keep thinking that’s my fault. And I know it is not.
It cannot be.
You had to make the choice.  
I never lifted your arm, perched a syringe, and struck a vein with the force of a thousand bombs for you.
You brought this war to yourself. 
You lit the fire and the enemy came. 
The enemy came and still, rather than fight with honor, you surrounded yourself with them. 
You surrendered to the noxious gas they lit without a second thought. 

               What will be left of the boy who grabbed death by her arms and kissed her?
              What will be left of me when I have nothing left to give?
I, who has watched you sink into the ocean trenches with every comedown. 
Me, who had watched love pilfer a soul and divide it's parts so far apart they could not be reconciled!
A car could crash into you, at full velocity, and I fear you would not feel it!
-------
What are we, if we do not feel?
We are carriers, of mud and of grease and unknown gore-
Waiting to be brought fresh breath by the morning sun. 

I - do not - feel - anymore. 
Take the razor and slice my flesh. I would not know it. 
My beauty is dead, as is the world's. 
There is never enough beauty. 
You asked me for my answer
To our problem. 

The answer to our problem was words that cut us apart like a chef preparing his dinner; softly, firmly. 
The answer was cold, it was the abyss of Marianna's Trench where no light would ever reach it!

The answer, lied in nothingness. Complete and utter abnegation of the self. 
It was selflessness, slinking, slithering softly into a red mesh. 

I-cut-myself-for-you
Let you drink my blood like it was the wine you desired. 
Allowed you passage to my heart despite the hurting you had shown.