Cannot

My dry mouth, cured with only blood, closes in your presence. My former self, sensitive and pretty, I’ve realized to be weak. Your arrogant smile is still haunting like a siren, singing her lullaby from which I cannot wake. I cannot breathe. I cannot be… Our lovely story turns to a gruesome novel, for the gore seemed befitting. Your pontification fell on secular ears, mine, which Cannot hear. Cannot see. Cannot be… My macabre style ruins your faux façade, your flirtatious torture, Which cannot tempt, Which cannot tease, Which cannot be… The same.