Mercy is the pyre onto you wish to burn me,

But douse me in those ashes so I can be free.

So then I can wash away this anguish,

And give in to my last wish.

My shadow is made of soot,

Into which I hide my loss.

And yet I am yet to be cross,

As I quash those feelings under boot.

“You’d never have guessed”

For I have reached the roof,

Seeing the stars burn is proof.

But there is nothing else here,

Gone is all of that fear.

Wishing for more tools,

All I find is emptiness,

Into which I confess,

I am sick of such rules.

“I’d never fucking rest”

I sit here counting the stars,

As I mine deep in my scars.

For the pain and blood to air,

But even that ain’t rare.

The night is getting cold,

And these bones are aching.

Wishing I was some kind of king,

No, I’d never be that bold.

“The page is finally empty”

…

I love you baby 🖤