Noble mazochism

First, I will scratch the cuts
you have left on me
till they won't stop bleeding,
so that the scars remind me forever.

Of what was NOT.

Then, I will wait till they run dry
and soak my body in bleach,
so that you can marvel at my luminous
snow white skin,my noble

Blood-lessness.

Finally, I will cut three pale limbs off
and drag my pure clean torso to your garden
so that I can dig the soil with my last
breath,in a hope to find you rotten there,

My stillborn love.