Right-handed Karmic Sacrifice

A sleeved arm upon a naked face, Showing peace and utter war within, This angel exists no more, Just a ghost within my arms, This spirit that I fall through, Is just the hurt that I swim in, Sorting through the scars she left, No one can see them, Because they are in my head, Still fresh, Still open, I can smell the blood trickle down, onto my tongue where the taste is sweet, of my own recollections, the paths they cross, then they separate forever, like a wine glass on the floor, reach in and take your piece of my heart, Let it die in your grasp, Then take more, and more, Then one day there is nothing left