Darkness

In here it is dark
like violets waiting
for blue to be swallowed
by an indifferent sun.
I am walking in haze;
The pseudo lover is gone.
What continues to linger are memories
of haphazard kisses,
embraces that were never whole,
promises spilled like sperm rotting cold.
The eyes are dry but the heart is a thousand miles buried in the north pole.

And the blood in my hands is never mine to own.