A Perfect End of Ink and Blood

A convulsing putrid piece
Of vulture-gorged love
Half heart eaten.
The left half weeping
In the baking carcass
The remnants of eyes
Lay floating with the soul,
In icy caverns of bile


Laying there on the cracked,
Dry,
Ground.
The left half now scavenged and torn
By the circling laughter
Eyes blacken as the bile soaked soul,
Digesting away
Loses its grip and falls


Left there hanging from what was once your love
Tightly suffocating
I swing from what was once our love
I swing lifeless and limp, cold and heavy
With this rope around my neck
Bleeding out my last breath


I die for you.