On my soul she perches,

like an eagle,

talons curling their way into the chillest parts of my soul.

My soul, like a pillow to her,

She seeks refuge in me,

but the bitter taste of her perfume

brings bile to my throat.

Her heart,

colorless,

the beat,

almost nonexistent.

If you listened,

you would hear nothing,

apart from the whistling wind that coursed through the cobwebbed carcass,

As if she had no heart,

The space where the heart s’posedly went,

Empty...

Wait,

It’s still there

!

Abashed in the corner of her chest

Treading the cruel tune that played in her,

Each time she clenched her talons,

her heart burned through her chest,

like a blast of boiling oil.

Slowly killing her.

It couldn’t help it.

The heart clung to her,

like a leech,

her very blood its lifeline.

Its melody was too pure for her,

like light pealing through the darkness.

I’m afraid of breaking the ties,

Afraid of earning the blame,

Afraid of

whispering for a way out.

Oh,

The trapping jaws of marriage.

Year: 
2016
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