The smell of her decaying womb
will destroy your olfactory
and leave residues of a perturbing young death.
He holds the water behind the soil
she decided to burn
for his drops of life evaporated.
Her tears ...
her pain and guilt weren't enough
to withstand the natural beauty
in her temple of caos.
As the needles traced an unforsaken path of lunacy,
she crumbled and slowly began to wilt!
He watched,
not really wishing to stare into her eyes,
knowing she was soon to leave him behind.
Cold, pale, dehydrated
from the liquid he reserved for himself.
He walks away as the duty has been done,
they hold no future ahead of them,
no strings ... no life ...
and her insides rot,
spoiled to the very marrow of her bones,
breathless ...
she lies ... lifeless ... in the arms ...
of no one.