Love is Naught

My most wildest dreams
go away from me
in a slow and hot moment
it sinks in to me -
I am empty.
I have nothing to give.

And I've lost you,
but it's too soon to speak.
And these lines,
what good have they done
but to remind
in a violent snort
of vain and bitter envy?
And their rhymes,
impatient and unkind,
equally bitter and puny,
serve merely to remind me
Of those sins better left unseen.
They're yours no longer -
I've taken them,
in tones sarcastic and biting:
Your ghosts are now demons in my memory.