what a greedy hoar.

you plucked darkness like a ripe apple from its root and ate it greedily, whispering warm nothings into my all too eager mouth, and whispering lusty somethings with your urgent hands- those hands.

those small hands. What a darling you were.

the clock always would strike midnight when we met, connections lost in your swollen lips, I suppose. You couldn't have been talking to me all those lovely days in the park; where the wind made me forget what this is, and you summoned the heavens to cry- CRY for God's sake- so we could return home and connect at midnight, the only way we knew how.

you were so greedy.

i wish i never tasted your tears

you were forever my Eve. I will eat your greedy fruit, I will succumb into the night and touch the darkness like a velvet that

just

keeps

suffocating me.

But i guess i was never your Adam.

Because I could never be, with your fists in my mouth, I couldn't.

Today I discovered wealth in all of those impressions of your body you soiled my bed with. I stole them from your whispering heart beats (at the midnight hour of course)

Like a greedy child, I won't let you take it from me.

It's mine. This unbelievable, inescapable, disgustingly too late truth.

I will deny your sweet breath and I will relish in this separation of body and soul- I discovered something today.

You've killed me.

My soul, my ashes, since the day we exchanged physicalities- my Eve, my Darling,

my rotten

sweet

lust

Had I the courage, i would drain every pint of you're blood from your pale figure I'd come to know so well.

I would have, I swear it.

I would have had so much pleasure in your pain, my Eve. But you, taking breath, after breath

after breath - I can't stand the thought.

it kills me.

That midnight (the one you should remember so well- when all the stars decided to flee from our prescence...) I shouted.

I shouted with every fiber of my being- every volume it allowed

I SHOUTED what I'd meant to say to the crowds before they started sprinkling dirt on me: in the faces of the old, the new, the children- the masses. I yelled and yelled until my voice cracked and bled like a scab that wasn't supposed to be picked off yet. God, i yelled.

They stopped and stared of course- and whispered "there stands a man in love" fools.

Oh,

but it's so true.

When you came and ripped through me with your manicured fingertips, and condemned every word i spoke, and forced yourself on me.

you kissed my ashes.

With that said, I know it's time for the dirt to become me. I know you'll stand above this grave, having plucked darkness of its fruit for the night

and eat. Eat until its juicy goodness spills over your chin to your neck- you'll eat like the greedy hoar you are as they say,

"Here lies a man in matrimony, who branded his lovers name in the literal sense, above his left breast."

the masses, they'll come. they'll understand you murdered me.

but mum's the word right?

their tossing me, limb by limb now, into this dark hole they've condemned me to.

It's so dirty.

Goodbye though, eager child.

you will always have been my Eve,

and you will never see the last of me.