Existent

without her

The darkness of an empty room. The black of a starless night. A man who has lost all sense of fight. The walls cave in, the lights go out. 

She is gone, and all I know is her. Every spark of knowing dims to a faint hum, a blur of what I have become. In her absence, I feel the mist of death crawl up my spine and wrap around my shoulders in it's eerie wake. Whispers shudder through broken canals trying to stir up enough hate to kill the pain.

The planets shift and the universe twirls into the unknown, nothing is correct without her. A black hole has appeared in my heart where she once stayed, but upon her leaving there is a sign -up for sale- as I can no longer accommodate this unsteady muscle with enough energy to keep on going. 

For without her hands, delicate that create intricate masterpiece, there is no use for this body. Her hell flames of anger are what drive this fuel-less mind. Her abyss of madness is what kept me from becoming void inside. Her beautiful crafted body brought me to life. Without her, I am no longer alive.