Across The Hall and Into a Shallow Grave

Standing across the hall as I stare at you,
Looking at you with eyes full of hope,
As your eyes burn me into a shallow grave.
 
Painting small remaining fragments of light and dark,
Annihilating the structure of hope that was never really there.
 
Your smile chills the very warmth of my soul,
Transparency of your nature caressing me to a coma.
Pretending you care that I care,
As I follow your shadow, following you.
 
Black onyx tears fall from my troubled eyes,
Feeling too much hurt to accompany sorrow.
 
Burning black into the heart on my wrist,
Just to feel no ventilation at all.
 
Cutting all threads that held me together, just to let me go.
Watching my incessant falling with an unwelcomed laugh.
 
Pulling apart the stitches of my heart to watch it bleed black blood,
Drinking it in, each drop a taste of destruction.
 
As you walk by, breathing in, I taste the poison of your failure
And the ghost of your past chokes me to sleep.
 
Watching lights flashing red, bleeding its blood across this street.
 
Pondering; stationary with no directions,
As you stab blindly backwards, never once hitting air.
 
Your empowerment, causes my own shadow to disown me,
Sobering my weak attempt at happiness.
 
Writing a poem to the suffering with the blade of your knife,
Hidden capability to self medicate this story.
 
Standing across the hall as I stare at you,
Looking at you with eyes full of hope,
As your eyes burn me into a shallow grave.