Barren

 His.
The darkness of her soul
bleeds into mine
bleedsbleedsbleeds
until it is a river,
and I am nothing but the torn riverbank,
lost in the flood.
I can see nothing,
feel nothing.
She consumes me,
and I am hers.
Hers.
Does he know that when he laughs
I forget to hate him?
Does he realize that he will be
my salvation someday?
Does he forget that I am closer to hell
than to heaven,
that I can feel the flames licking at my heart,
and it is everything I am not to fall, lifeless?
I think he does,
but when I look at his eyes, the way they smile,
I see something that breaks my heart:
I think he loves me anyway.