We Came From The Dark Ages

S E V E N T E E N

nobody can love me / 27.12.18

because I yearn
for the taste of tragedy.
I lap at it with my crooked
tongue. and it is
very sweet, like the
filling of a cold cherry pie.
I am corrupted, a
fuck up. I create chaos
for those who care
for my being.

eventually they all
fear.

and nobody can love me
because I am accustomed
to the phobia of giving.
of sharing my all to another,
leading to a chance of being
burned by a fire like
that of a freshly
lit match. I am now
wealthy of
only myself. I am rich
without them. and
they are not receiving
of me.

eventually they all
run.

but nobody can love me
because I crave the
smell of my own loneliness.
and it smells of
fresh lavender. or of
a honeysuckle. it is
mesmerizing and dewey.
I now ache for
love from another soul.
but I love denying
myself what others
rightfully have.

eventually they all
leave.

and my mouth will taste the
cherry pie filling; only I
now discover it is just
thick, pungent blood. the blood
that weeps from my
heart.

and my body will become
even richer; only to
find that I am poor of everything.
I now only have slivers
of dirt, caressing my
fingers where my self
wealth once was.

and my nose will fill with
the aroma of lavender and
that of the honeysuckle; only
I now know that there
is no earthy scent
or warmth, just that of
rotting death and my
own tears. what of which
flow from a river of
simply suffering.

nobody will ever love me
because eventually
there will be nothing left
of my body.