Wilt

I will never forget the shame of loving you.

Its branded into the folds of my memories,

Tucked between grey sheets like the embers

That were destined to burn the house down.

.

You've charred my soul and I wonder how long

It will take for me to transform into a pile of ash.

My bones are still warm from the unrelenting fire

But you've never made me wait much, have you?

.

I hope this hurts, for me, for you, for us, and badly.

Shame as violent as this shouldn't be a pleasant thing.

Besides, this shame has wounded me so much already

That anything less than spilled blood would disappoint.