Ashintine

Ashintine

My skin is cold, desolate, and abandoned by human touch, it’s been long since I’ve faded from human consciousness, yet her face doesn’t fade from mine.

The days used to be sublime, carefree, and limitless; with her, I had a purpose. Little did I know, the burns are worse than the scars.

Even my tears can’t moisten my ashy skin – like the sands of time have permanently marked me.

I couldn’t see it; I got lost in every part of her, inside and out.

She was everything to me; she’d given me everything I could have asked for – At least, that was what I thought. I got wrapped up in her cradle of death, every word like smooth honey to the ears; such a beautiful voice.

I still miss her calling my name.

“Jacob! Could you come here? I need your help!” She’d call out, and I would come with my entire focus on her, nothing but her.

She was so polite, and her compliments were never ending; a blissful stream, but a demon in disguise. All her kindness was to butter me up, so when I was finally cooked, I was tastier than ever.

I forgive her, though…

I know what she did was wrong, inhuman, and immoral beyond belief… I can’t help it, the way she’d smile when I got that promotion; I can’t forget it. How does someone fake such emotion?

She looked truly happy for me; we’re both used to being poor, barely scraping by. However, heaven’s light shined upon me and her gleaming white smile. I remember when I got my first paycheck,

it wasn’t ludicrous, but it gave way to more fun;

more opportunities…

We went out that day, to an all you could-eat buffet, nothing too fancy, but it was a luxury; her being by my side made the world to me.

All this reminiscing, all these tears… Can’t calm my raging body; it feels like I’m falling apart, my flesh barely hanging on.

My wrists hurt from an unknown source, but they feel a tremendous weight encapsulating them; it’s cold.

Yet, when I touch them, a deep searing pain arrives from ungodly heat, like two states of being.

It hurts to move, not just from the burns but from my limbs hardly keeping attached to my body. Deep incisions mark the starting point of my legs, arms, and throat, carving trenches into me, there drenched in blood; any movement brings a pain so fresh, yet, so violent, it feels like I’m dying.

What have I done to deserve this?

Is it my eternal love for a woman who has forsaken me?

A love that has trapped me in limbo, it keeps me here, even when I’m in unyielding pain, waves of distraught, and pensive loneliness.

I can’t stop thinking of her, that damn face of hers, so delicate, divine, and entrapping; I love and hate her.

I know I must break my connection to her to free myself; however, I can only remember the good old days.

All this conflict makes me uncomfortable, and the pain is unruly; as I try to shuffle with what little limb movement I have, the pain comes back in full force, causing me to cry out in agony, not just from the pain, but the whiplash of emotions.

I want to hate her, I want her to suffer as I have, but I can’t stop loving her; that bitch! I’ll scream until she hears me from the beyond; she’s a worthless whore, only good for her looks.

I’m going to fucking haunt your dreams, you’ve pushed me to the edge, and all I can do is scream; if I can’t sleep, neither can you. I have eternity to figure out how to punish you for your crimes.

Fuck moving on. I’m coming for you, Ashintine.