Where did you go? (You made my heart sink.)

I felt the crumble of despair and the sickness of myself alone
To dwell on all the points of yours in which I find her staring back.

She mocks me, or is that just the torment of my mind?
In which not only do I hear her - I stare her.
Fighting at the ropes to pull back every untied thread,
To make her realize there was no madness in my head.
And if there was it wasn't sickness - it was love, atorn from reason,
Calling for arms in which to sink inside and beat
That bottle in which flies crawl, no matter what I do.
In the middle a bee lay, soot-black and grounded.
I've tried for years to push that cadaver out of sight,
Since the day the legs gave out; wake up.. why wont you wake up!?
I focused mirth inside those lips where only bane-zest replied,
There were jolts and flutters that I half intentionally ignored
(Although I wished for life and sunlight, I chanted for it's death.)
Lifeless - lethargic - limp - listless.

After school we first met at the throat end of my lane-way.
My blood-machine has never since beat in the same way.
Bereft of love. Teaching to again shares the hope
That a hoofed animal would feel with the tying of a rope.

Only neglect (which I paved across her body and her soul)
Dismantled that which I thought strong, like tungsten carbide.
Holding traits like that of sea-breeze blowing steel into rust,
Of time turning memories of her vulva and breasts to dust.

Regret, naive and drunken with nostalgia,
Is at fault for her made conclusion - all seasons after.
Regret I have forever since held hostage, or it's held me
Captive of a beast, one I had battled for so long;
Shards of teeth ringed out, like tiny bells,
As felled all around it's face pressed against the asphalt.
My thumbs clung deep into it's neck, lips against it's ear -
"This is how I pay you, monster, conk beneath my agony!"
Blood spilled from it's eyes and I could swear that it was dead,
But every day I see him, sneering, in the darkness in my head.

You return, as does an almost false sense of happiness within me,
And type something yours to remind me of yourself.
Then love jumps a trigger you have been playing with a while
(Like when you stand atop a cliff and feel magnetized to jump),
That's OK, an absent father cannot warn of what will happen:
When you play with even toy guns, you are bound to squeeze them off.
More terms, which fashion themselves into your sweet young self,
Remind me what things of which no others mirror quite the same;
Always grasping at my bicep when I hold your legs around my waist.
We seem to fuck away the moonlight, trying to rid us of the taste
Of what it's like to have no partner, laid in bed with no one else,
But it seems that loneliness and intimacy aren't always parallels
Because everyone has secrets which they hold with them for life,
Mine could get me into trouble, yours could cost a man his wife.

I marvel at the purity of your innocent footsteps.
You tread toward learning that which speaks love
Whilst I crawl out the brute's inside womb, defeated,
Speaking only the unfilled, deflated, vacuum of hate.