Burnt

…

No crackling sounds,
or smouldering embers,

not even a hint of a wisp of smoke,

no heat felt at all.

Still, a fire rages,

scorching through the canyons of my memory,

in sweltering waves of loss,

without a whimper, or a thundering roar.

Yet,

I stand alone, seemingly unscathed,

but,

burnt to my very core.

…

Tattoo

…

An imprint of you remains,

mingled in the blood racing through my veins,

hewn into my flesh you stay,

a chiselled tattoo from our long-lost yesterday,

deeply branded by your entire being,

rooted to a memory incapable of fleeing,

torn, and twisting inside my skin,

the pain screeches like jangling cans of tin,

a desolate nightmare this agony feels,

with a phantom whiff of your sweet breath my soul reels,

now that you are gone, lost within a labyrinth of illusions,

your voice swarms inside my desperate delusions,

scratching, clawing layers of past moments spent with you,

you are a part of me, an unfaded, vivid tattoo,

and as my dreams of you frantically race,

I am unable to erase,

the blazing picture of your exquisite face,

so let me be, and leave me to burn in this furnace of my hell,

I should have known better,

but all that matters little,

because it was for you, that I fell.

…