My Blood Will Nourish It

With every beat, with every pound, my heart pours more and more blood into the river of lies you are drowning me in. My blood will nourish it. The river is acidic from all my pain, which flows through it freely. As you drown me, the hot odor of iron and lost love brings nausea down to the pit of my gut. I pray the Lord above, whom I still doubt, will save me from this death, embellished by a false claim of love. If not, I then pray He take me soon, for the bloody, congealed waters of this river continue to suck the life from my soul-broken body in a manner too torturous to endure. Or perhaps I will rise from this untimely death as a ghostly phoenix. One with newly-born wisdom, a solemn soul, a stony heart, and flaming eyes. But until then, each pore on my body will feel the currents of the acidic waters pass through them, just as sewage flows through underground tunnels. But you... May your slow murder of my heart and soul be the blessed catalyst that decays your unearthly body down to your bitter, ugly core. And when I am a phoenix, I will wash away your hideous remains, bones and tissue, with the same river waters in which you drowned me.