I can't write

I won't allow myself to write today. It hurts my heart to think, to say. I yearn for you in every way. But I won't allow myself to write today. The kindness in your eyes did play, with strings upon my loving ways. Your voice it soothed an ache that burned, your hands they did not play. Your words they ate a hole within, where once the space was filled. Your honesty was kind, but yet, I'm bursting from guilted eyes. No more a touch that once adorned, no more a guilded smile, upon a face that floods with tears. Forlorn a fate, a bagged eye does wait, so flee into the night. To show a wit, to fade, to quit, and now forget a ransom on skin under draped linen. A silk too smooth, it slips right off, no filter in-between. To see too much, a ravenous touch. To grab then grope, a frivolous joke.

Whither in the corner alone. Capable of pulling a rope over arms. Slipping into a feat that is worn, slash away a creep with horns. Anger fills eyes that only softness knew before. And now I, I just can't write, anymore.