As My Body Rots

As I succumb to the wounds you've inflicted gasping for air, for life, eyes bloodshot, cheeks wet, Will you love me then? My cold, bloodied body will lay lifeless in your bed, my crimson seeping into the sheets. What will you do? Surely you'll have to wash those sheets lest your next lover discovers. Three seasons have passed. Now we both lack humanity. How many ribs can you see? Eyes lie awake, they can see you too. Is that Pterostichus nigrita? Perhaps madidus? I have become their vessel, they are ravenous. What I once studied, is pleased to have me on their plate. Whilst my flesh may be stripped away, my eyes will not. They have seen what you have done to me and once nothing remains. Will you love me then?