She who had left me

I’m a girl with no tattoos, no iron-tight beliefs, no heart to give to any man or a sign.

I no longer believe in fairy-tales or fascination, the world is black, if ever there was a soul to observe it.

She took both the world and the fairy-tales, the ink on my skin as well as the promise. She buried her heart in volcanic soil next to mine and said it was for keeps.

Now her body lay there in the ashes, buried two yards underneath. The world has moved on, as did her soul away from me.

My girl is dead, and that is the only promise left for me.