i sit at a white cloth table
decorated with illuminating silverware
a flickering vanilla laced candle
mocks what is left
of the soft glow in my chest
there are soft hues surrounding
my ethereal visions of a dream,
one where he comes to me and
i consent to his visitation
without him, i am dull
he owns me
i am his princess
covered in rose petals
and innocence
he sits opposite of me
with his ways of wisdom
he reaches across the table
to pluck each petal from my
rotting mind
"you are uninhabitable without me,
i can fix you
and make you into a home again,"
he whispers to me
the last petal falls to the floor.
as he leaves, the candle burns out
to a crisp coal
i turn into a small twinkling ember
i take my last breath
and i disappear.
-an assault of the mind