Years Without You

I've decayed
away; in a way
the best and worst
decay.
I have paid -
for day after day,
both good and bad -
my dues.

I'm half-gone,
it's been years
without you.
I'm half-muscle,
worn-out sinew.
My eyes, glassed -
peering at the past...
it's been years
without you.

These bones, -
albeit, chipped away at
throughout my life -
they're still alive for you.
These bones, -
metaphysically speaking -
are eaten away
by their aching
to wrap around your body.
It's been years
without you.

My autopsy: -
(they presumed) -
a vivisection, in truth.
For my heart still beats,
for you.
Organs removed,
but my heart still beats,
for you.
Six feet under,
this love's still true.
Even though it's been years
without you.
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This poem goes along with another poem of mine ("So Sick, Toxic"), and a third poem will become part of a trilogy to be titled After-Death Love Song. I'd love a brutal critique on this, thank you!