It slides across the desk at an imaginary angle

And flows like a river to a climax point

At which it hurts to watch it fall silently to the ground

It stains the floor on which my ice cold memories lay

In the form of a physical remembrance of love

With stone cold eyes, her head falls to her neck

Her lifeless pupils staring in a scream at quickening breaths

As I sit and watch her body laying under my desk

My main supply of life is the last thing turning to charcoal black

As I grab her frozen hand and place it in mine

It levels out the heat that's rising

In the midst of land and time

She lies there, alive inside my mind

With all restrictions left behind

And as I touch her, she fitted me into her life

Like a categorised smile.

And now she lies lifeless under my feet

Haunting my movements and scaring my dreams

And the liquid still falls like a teen to their death

From the highest of heights when there's nothing else left.

And as it reaches its last moments together

The point where potential and kinetic are in comparison

It looks up at me where it's spent each dying second

Wishing for something more real than heaven

And then a slight pause and time stands still

And we see this from my love's dead point of view

She reaches out with the reapers own hand

And stops it before it is going to land.

With that she rises, her halo is rust,

And screams out so terrible and falls down to dust.

The drop emerges from the ashes of lust

And falls to the floor and diffuses into the earth's core

To be blood just once more.

And still the life pours from the centre of gore

Until the heart runs dry and the pathways are white

And then we will feel we've won the fight.

Weak. Imperfect. Exposed. Adolescent.

Retained in entrapment and bleeding transparent.

We don't seem to realise our feelings don't matter

They just don't flatter our minds and our manners.

And still the blood drips from invisible angles.