Passage 2 Poem by Nyx C Styx

To you from whose rib I was fashioned. Archaic is the love that crashes against the shores of my breast. These ancient affections have harbored and anchored themselves deep into the sea bed clay of my person. I am drowned from the inside out, and again when the waters seep from the outside in. Forever in some liquid suspension, unaware of what I see is dreams or day dreams. I have burned to ash, my mind, that loves you with the intensity of a candle lit upon both ends. All that remains behind is the soot, the blackness, the darkness of what I am without you. Ignite me once again. See how well I burn. More intense then the Sun, that can barely set ablaze the world for the dominion of a meager twelve hours that it commands the day. I will burn through, day and night. Flames may leap from the darkness and birth shadows that are darker still. My limbs are cold tonight, but my breast beats and breaths the gentle exhale of Hell; it is all that keeps me warm. And all that keeps this clay Alive.