Ironic Life
Angel,
how is that I'm still alive?
Cold now,
I whisper,
let it be tonight I die.
It was always you,
your hands touching me.
Innocently at first,
folly,
but then your eyes
looked beneath
the flesh and bone.
Hours past of lustful play,
As the moon shone on the blade.
Draining the life from our veins,
we were one,
the same.
I woke;
you didn't,
for shame,
for shame.
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