I wish I could forget
your yellow eyes shining in the dark
twin burning coals set
in the not-reflection of my face, spark
searing into my flesh
with molten memory
seeping
weeping
into the splintered cracks of my bones
like poison.

You speak to me gray
as I’m falling to sleep
everything I never say
is yours to reap
slicing into my skin
with scythe fingers
drinking
sinking
into the soft tissue of my mind
like steel blades.

In the graveyard of my sins,
these hollow hills are haunted by ghosts,
waiting to be filled with the corpses of
gods who never answered my prayers.
Bodies are cemeteries for specters of the past.