The road to hell is paved with good intentions?

I look around to find that which mirrors
all that I possess
all that I am in this moment;
crumbling bones witness to an armour without shells
damp pillows speaking of countless sleepless nights
air heavy with suffocating smoke of a cigarette too many
pock-marked walls infused with blood stains of grief
a man trying to stumble upon life affirming light
forgetting that he is the creator of his dying sun

they say in the end, history revisits your mind's eye
but I see only ghosts of what should have been mine
assault of your smile that rebirthed me a million times
voice that drowned my aphotic insanity
curve of your hips that etched my path to delicious sin
words you inked embedded into my bloodstream
"red satin
black stilettos
sharp blade
wounded bird
sonnets suicide
red wine pain
crime scenes
switch blade mouth"
in a time before now what I thought mine
no longer corporeal to my soul

so once more into fray of darkness I long for
envisioning a death before what is destined
willing footsteps on crucifix-boulevard
violent sacrifice or pawn? 
shall I be one or will I find one 
I have become that all I lost
hands that destroyed will be my end's instrument

I dug an unmarked grave  
to bury the pen that was once my solace
embers of burning paper searing my skin
ashes helplessly slipping through my fingers
lay to rest all that I was once 

my secrets
unchanging stubbornness
I tried to shield but I only--
shattered into shards only grace I ever knew

I dug my own grave 
for I long to jump into the dark fray 
once more
one last time 
one last time. 

©Lost
 
"red satin
black stilettos
sharp blade
wounded bird
sonnets suicide
red wine pain
crime scenes
switch blade mouth"...these words were not written by me.