empty room, empty heart

surely he knows
his words slice deeper than any blade

surely he sees
me watching in pain

as he weaves a new web
ensnares a new prize

pouring honeyed words from those lips
those lips that once were mine

his thick stickness flows
flows and fills her with desire

until she is bursting
viscious honey dripping free

never satiated he feeds on her
taking back all that was his, and more

leaving her hollow shell
discarded, dry--so much like my own