Circles: Part two: Eyes

Eyes

A faceless lady digs her nails and scratches my skin.
Only to pour blood upon the chalkboard,
clawing and biting she wants me more.

She walks through the isles of desks,
her teeth exposed,
blood dripping,
her lips say stay.

Her eyes however told a different story,

flickers of hope,
sapphire eyes.

For a moment she disappears,
replaced by an angle,
a girl I once knew.

Reaching for my neck I countered a chill, it traveled down the spine and filled my mind with shock.

My flesh,
missing,
and blood flows,
a river,
down my body.

The walls turned,
no-longer pure;
the roots of a dogwood,
constrain the structure.

Her hand lays outward,
reaching,

half dazed and ash falling from the ceiling we begin coughing blood together.

I grab her hand,
flashes of red again,
flesh from my arm gone,

I guide us the doorway.

The room smaller now,
with lights emitting from underneath,
complete darkness.

I bump the desks,
racing toward the doorway,
she jumps on me scratching my face,
the doorknob at my fingertips locked.

Her eyes glowed red,
claws again,
my blood sprayed across the darkened room.

Agony,
she smashes my head,

A defining crack my head split open and the sent of rotting corpse.

I feel my soul being devoured,
every sense my existence,
gone,
to be devoured,
and leaving my heart untouched.

What can I say?
What a moment,
time stood still,
looking over her shoulder from a distant hill

I realize the end its not the end.

She grasped my heart,
still beating,
squeezing the last bits of blood left inside.

I'm nothing but a hidden memory, disguised in atoms of her brain.

She glances around,
and her eyes cut through the darkness.

The roots retract,
desks fill the rows,
and the classroom returns,
to its undisturbed form.

She walks to a desk
and sits in front of the classroom,
placing my heart on a stack of papers.

The words flow,
As boiling ink flows to my heart,
it beats again,
Warmth,
her writings poison.

Were simply words when were gone and through words I survive.

The pain of reconstruction,
searing ink,
Scorching the paper,
torching the desk,

but I am reborn,
just a shadow of my former self.

And then I ask,
How could she do this?
To rip me apart and leave only my heart,
the last place she still had a hold on,
she left alone.

Slowly I regain feeling,
my skin darkened burnt, but useable.
She reaches for me again,
and I take her hand.

The room warms, but cools the body as the doorway emits a shimmering light.

We don’t talk,
just walk,
our minds in unison as she opens the door.

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