Thanatos V - (H)Armed Robbery

These are the marks of her pencil tip scratches
Sitting upon my eyes, waiting for the dent to dissolve;
Slippery silver shine,
Down my cheeks, choking me from externals.

And how she draws me close,
Designed of crayon skin and pastel clothes.
Full bodied and well-intentioned,
However breathless and formless without batted observation.

I love how she formulates my chest completely concave,
Broken into by semi-weighted feline,
Pillaged of my treasures, leaving only a love letter ransom note.
Cold air torn intercostals and blue black boiling blood.

I am erased with the flick of her finger,
Rubbed off the paper, soiled and wrinkled, condensed and coffee-mug-stained,
Sometimes left in the dust with a rustic sense of trust.

This dimension is defeating, solo and only, time-ticking, present speaking.
I colour within the lines and resolve to pace these pencil shaving shakes, crying:
"Don't leave me alone alone."