lament

i. the choice

you were a skeletal murderer –
one that you would both expect and
not expect,
which makes no sense when
i think about it.

you were the one i loved,
the one i protected,
until you presented me with
a choice.

"you know i love you,
so choose:
destroy you or destroy her?"

and your skeletal murderer fingers pointed
to a cowering figure that i
grasped onto with my eyes and
my beating, beating heart.

ii. destroy her

you grinned so softly, a faded
kindness, and in that grin, i saw the person
i used to want to marry and make love to.
i guess i never let you go,
even when you became someone else.

and her screams still echo in my head,
as you bit her wrists into
a vampire-like mess that kept her
alive long enough to watch
her soul bleed out.

i've written your name on my wrist
and tried to do the same to me
as you did to her
but my teeth aren't sharp enough.
i just left ragged marks and
scars that won't fade.

then i remember you took hours
and a day
to rip her lifelines into nothing.
so i give my patience
to my teeth.

iii. destroy you

you kissed me as gently as the next
butterfly and it tasted of blood and sweat
and – no, not tears.
it tasted of blood and sweat and tenderness
that was more pain than sweet.

i saw the girl who was more innocent
than death-waiting
as she turned her eyes to me and
gripped her fingers in
a deadlock to hide her heart.

but it wasn't long before you
drew a knife and carved out
my heart to keep.
i'd always said my heart was yours.
i guess i just never meant it that literally.

iv. the consequence

no one ever knew my story
because i was a nothing, a nobody –
it took them a while to realise
i was gone.

my mind has faded into dust now
and i don't remember which story
is the real story –
was i cowardly or did i sacrifice myself?
but i have not yet met the girl
in my shadow-land, so i can't
ask for the answers.

i've accepted that i probably
won't ever know for sure
and i settle myself into my fantasies;
my stories that know very little words.

v. and the end

i fade for a very long time
until you show in my grave of dirt and
no air.
you'd dug a tunnel to me and that
was when i realise
you must've been buried in the same
cemetery i was.

and he whispers, "i'm sorry,"
with not-yet decaying lips and
my final soul gave out with a gasp
just as i was finally starting
to hold on.