Words from an injured heart

Your fingernails followed my vains as a roadmap through my dark twisted soul, leaving traces of poison so subtle, it felt good. Your poison was my drug that made me feel good. Your fingernails kept tracing. Searching for what they couldn't find. They found my rib cage, slowly seeped through the cracks to find the lifeline. Your greed and lust wanted it. I opened it up to you, I gave to you what I treasured. You stole it so subtly, I didn't notice. You replaced it with hollow memories of what once was. Those memories soon faded into a dream, a dream then to nothing. A nothing that just sits in my chest as the wind that weaves its way through the ribs and echoes through the empty cavity in my chest.