Chemoforic

Your hand slipped from mine
with strong silent reverie
remaining devout in the curled knife
between life and death,
impossible.

The empath inside this head imploded.
Searched bitterly through books
which had no truth
fact, reason or rhetoric,
desperate for affirmation.

Apothecaries could not revive
a ghost who pulsed beneath
opalescent skin,
no magic could replace ferocious
strength which held my bones
until I thought the world had come
to an abrupt end.

Only a shadow
a carcass.
wrecked

listless

as your hand
slipped
from

mine

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5 responses to “Chemoforic

Put me out of my misery people!

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