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Description
Blood-shot eyes
Broken hearts
That sweet, sticky liquid on my fingers
It's not mine
But it brings me some kind of satisfaction
As the shimmering edge pene//trates
The secretion
f
   l
o
   w
i
   n
g
   d
o
   w
n
my arms
Sliding down my hands
And dripping from my
finger
        t
        i
        p
        s
It's my solace
My release
My drug
And the antidote
Is that your pain remains g r e a t e r than mine
That I show you what you've done to me
In the same sick
T
  w
    i
    s
    t
   e
d
Gut-wrenching manner
That you love so much
The way you imply it on others
Has now been
      t
     u
   r
n
  e
d
on you
I walk to your body
Broken and beaten
On the porcelain floor
A smirk gracing my face
As I kick your cadaver to roll it over
I stop smiling
I don't see your face
But instead
My own
I blink once
And I am the one on the floor
With you
t
o
w
e
r
i
n
g
over me once again
Unharmed
Unwounded
Untouched
The small bayonet clenched in your hand
As I am unable to m o v e
You stand on each/ side of my body
And slowly lower yourself
Crushing my center
You bring your arm up behind you
Stiletto in hand
And
p
l
u
n
g
e
the steel in to my chest