Echos of Confusion

She can laugh in the face of grace while locking eyes with the darkness.  
No fear.
 
She radiates glowing grandeur in the depths of her reflection. She shines.
 
She worships the center of confusion from within.  
It's her truth.
 
All the while I drown in the past on waves of pain, slowly sinking, discarded in a pool of thirst. I am vulnerable.  
 
Nighttime closes in.  
I’m anxious.  
 
Scenarios float through my dreams buried under her lips.
She works at being her own master.  
 
The master of her own story reins.  
Perfect conception.
 
She still leaves memories in my heart.  
A falsehood lacking trust.
 
Although she was loved, there is nothing left to love.  
Deviant. Empty.