Release

You.

Made me hate myself for loving you. Your silhouette follows my every move. Whispers of your utter sayings stay in the vents. Walls decorated with passionate fits. Clumps of debris infect my skin. I need help from you. An escape from the fortress of rue. Show me, Heaven. Hold my hand, take my spirit. My soul I must submit. Just to be purged of their sins.

S. L. Cline