The ink of my pen drips down my hand into a puddle of dark reflection of nothingness

Leaving behind scratches of flaring claws running down my arm

Like the coffee stained paper spread across my desk.

As I print these words

You left behind in the golden corners i upheld for you of my heart

Flaring scratches and the tip of your pen logged through my heart.

A pen playing with fire of my wooden heart, now dissolved into ashes of nothingness behind my back

You were a sheep in the flesh

A predator in the blood.

Spread across the table, you offered me pure and clean paper

Only to stain in with coffee.

The ink of my pen drips down my hand into a puddle of dark reflection of what was once an unscathed heart.