You're like thick black smoke
From burning wood and paper
Overwhelming
Making my eyes water
And filling my lungs
Until I cannot breathe,
Completely consumed by you.
Yet your fire burns away,
Slowly doing its best
To kill me.

What will you write on
My small, gray tombstone,
Poking innocuously from the grass?
"Here lies my lost love," perhaps?
Or maybe, "She lived by the fire;
She died by the fire"?

Will you even bother with one?
Why should you mess with
Courtesy now? You didn't care
While you asphyxiated me.
Just stuff me into a black
Plastic bag; that will save
Some time and money. Bury
Me in the backyard. I'll
Be too dead to mind, and besides,
I'd rather be alone. Tell me
You loved me as you sprinkle
In the dirt; my decaying corpse
Will believe you, I'm sure.
Fill in the hole with the
Fresh earth; maybe plant
A rosebush over me; they
Were my favorite flower, even
Though you always forgot and
Brought me carnations.

I'll make sure that the hole
In your heart is never filled.
I'll haunt your dreams as
You try to sleep at night;
Yes, you'll be plagued by the
Image of my face, soft as in
Slumber but far too pale for life.
I'll follow you as you walk
Down the crowded streets,
So seemingly innocent; if only
They knew what you've done to
Me.

I'll be in heaven, finally free,
Yet still there, making sure
That you understand:
Never again will you touch me,
Hold me, feel my affection,
But always,
You will love me.