The silence beckons me, deeper into myself
Where I can no longer sit this misery on a shelf.
So overburdened, Nearly given in to my worst woes,
A darkness too horrifying to disclose.
I’ve succumbed to this helplessness before,
My wings too tattered, my faith needs restored;
This pale concoction of death’s repose,
Shall now be reflected in bitter prose.
 
You hold me in your hands,
Calm, now clumsy in your wake.
I’ve surrendered all to you,
And everything, you did take.
 
The numbness creeps in,
Intermittent, yet delightful as sin.
I cannot feel at all when you hold me tight,
But not a soul can know of our plight.
Shakespearian, our romance, a dance
In the darkness of our (my) belligerence.
 
Yet I hold you still,
In my heart, mind, and soul
Embodiment of my hatred,
You have taken your toll.
 
I have nothing left to give,
I am yours again.