Dead love

I.
Cannot.
Pick up a pencil.
I cannot paint a stroke.
I cannot pen a fucking word.

I cannot cry a damn tear.
But i ache to feel something.

I yearn to be numb,
in the pain of your resolution.
I cry out for the shame,
but so suddenly, I cannot.

I waltz from lover to past lover
searching for what i had with you.
But nothing ever feels the same.
It never feels right.

And I would hate you,
but I'm too busy reminiscing,
your toxic kiss.

And I would have killed you,
but I'm too fucking busy trying
not too love you.

And some day will come,
my 'dear' friend.
When its all faded away.
And I will reach into your wretched cage,
feel the chilling ache of your frozen heart
and I will reach in and grab
the remnants of my own bitter heart.
The misery gnawing at my fingernails,
bitten raw in anticipation.
Our song will fade.
And I will regain my soul.

But until then ,
until that last hour.
Do not stop,
telling my bleeding ears
the venomous lies of shrapnel words.
Don't stop kissing my skin,
until the yellowing puss of your 'I love you's.
For  I cannot reclaim all that is and what was mine,
until I have die.
So dance with me.
My sweet ecstasy.
The misery of cocaine.
Acid tripping circuits and faintly intoxicated glimmering stages.
Until I am dead.
Continue until I die.
Until we are dead...