His Love

Words are empty.
I don't remember his name, his face, his heart.
Only his scent, his touch, his mind, ever presently on mine, but I don't remember.
Only losing him, leaving him.
Betrayal becomes benevolence.
My heart aches with me as I lay there alone, fingers swimming in grief, drowning in the waves cursing over my body.
As I regain respose, loss.
Wretched, I feel myself begin to fall again, my breath hitching.
Slowly the waves push back, as do I from the shadows building around me, cloudy and mysterious, staring at me, vulnerable and familiar.
Stolen from, I overcome and forget, gasping for breath.
I'm broken in half, pull me back together again.
Tears befall the eyes that match their empty colour.
Silence claws at me, begging.
Impetrating for forgivness.
I don't remember his love, no matter what or how hard I try.
Sorrow clouds my eyes, blinding me.
I play music to divert my weakening self, volume loudening.
Spitting words and lies, melodic and melancholy.
Lust evades me and in it's place lies defeat.
Words are empty.
Speech is futile.
For whatever I am,
Stuttering for,
Forever I am,
His love.