You could have been.
Once encased within my embrace.
You could have ruled.
I write these words on parchment meant for the gods.
I will burn, ashes consumed with broken breaths.
Signs have been begged for.
Fatigue has set in, I have no more reasons for apathy.
I suppose I am fully to blame.
For lying to myself.
I said I’ve given you up.
Memories stir at the bottom of our ocean.
The waves consumed our past.
I said I loathed you, despised you, all in the name of absolution.
But I still wait here atop this ravine.
Waiting to swan dive into oblivion.
Open wounds glisten from the blinding light of the grey skies.
I just want this to be over.
Quiet, clear, alone.
Without tears and under slivers of moonlight.
With darkness to hide my shadow-self.
I want to stop creating more wounds in hope that you find your way out of my quintessence.
I want to jump.
Wash away from this ravine, these memories.
Never to be stirred by whispered voices.
Never a memory.
Just a dour afterthought.