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