Her body's submerged in fibrin;
a marionette doll of her own physique.
Every day, she peels - collecting blood clots
underneath her nails, reminiscent of that night
she dug into your skin, from fear and obsession.
Her tears tear you apart, but she's a damsel in distress
too stubborn to let you fix her dam. So you're swimming
against the current, submerged in blood, submerged
into her very soul, till every fiber of her body
enclosed around yours, like a cocoon that protects
insects from daylight - waiting for metamorphosis.
She never changed - however, you did.
She never got rid of the blood stains,
as she watched you flutter away, past the horizon.
She never changed the way she anticipated
the presence of loneliness after falling together.
She never changed.
