vi. after you

fingers beneath my fabric, 

a smirk playing in the lime lights,

i dive into the fever, 

your touch leaving a fiery mark. 

your glare, like relentless headlights, 

now i forgot to move,

who could come after you?

i built an altar in the quiet of my mind,

each memory measured in dark red scars,

striking me like a freight, 

devastation crashing through my veins.

it should hit me like a truck,

but who could come after you?

when solitude and peacefulness whispers my name,

your shadow claims every empty space i knew,

overshadowing every lights around,

but still, nothing compares to the mark left by you.

in this endless silence and betrayed faithfulness,

my heart beats in residue,

now, who could devastate me in the way you do?

who could come after you?