Poem: Take Me Dead

I haven't seen her now for six months.
My holdout and stubbornness has won.
Though it took her some time,
she finally discovered, the rudeness,
the offense to me, she'd done.
Sincerely repentant, I did not forgive,
for what of my life have I left?
But the mule stubborn Bastard debt
which I keep towards this girl;
for an offense she never repaid.

But she offered me nothing,
except fake, kind, words,
a nothingness filling up air.
My heart that she owned,
long since burned to dust,
in the fire,
she started,
with air.

So take of my last,
whatever you want.
You thin, fucked-up girl
of brown eyes.
But take it,
believing,
you'd enjoy it
much better,
with me,
at your side,
still alive.