only numbers

a casualty of your gaze,
your eyes declare flatlines
with no waves of regret
in your coroner heart,

you read the last rites
over hope's broken body,
before birds came to eat,
what was left of my heart

you buried me at the back
of your ivy-grown mind,
within funereal seconds,
all the plot's been taken

by faithless bodies,
there were no names,
only numbers next to me,
the bitterness hangs

with a drought of feelings
i'd never thirst for anyone
this much; i'd never died
so painfully for heaven