In the Month of May

Oh dearest mother, please don't cry, don't let those pretty blue eyes that lend their colour to my own drop those wretched tears you seem to care for so much. These red and blue lights are illuminating your pale and sallow face, once so beautiful and full. I miss you, I miss those days.

They're dragging me out towards the lights, along the blood trails made in the grass, made of my own and anothers. Oh, mother, I promise, I was only trying to protect myself.
His eyes were open in the most satisfying of ways, for they were empty. They were so fucking empty, like yours had been through those years, like mine had been. We were both so young, you and I mother, but we were so hollow.

His cruel, glinting, hateful eyes that bore into mine with those nights he spent with a hand over my mouth and another in unmentionable places. His digusting green eyes, vile and vomiting with their own sickness.

My dearest mother, please understand, how smooth and clean his throat slit, how beautiful the sight of his marred and unrecognizable body was to my eyes. My hands were covered in crimson, the blood that ran through my own veins, the blood to which you lended yours to make me.

Oh, dearest mother, my dearest beautiful mother.

Please understand how much this has helped us, you and me, please understand how much better life will be to not ever have to speak of him in the present tense again. Please understand how much happier so many people have been made by his exile. Oh, mother, please understand.

The blood is still on my hands, trailing in the grass, as my eyes gaze at the scars covering his body, the cut up flesh and bone that was my own. I smile, so proud, and hoping that you could be proud of me too, mother.

You don't know what he has done to me, what he has been doing to me. He is doing those same things he did to you out of what you believed was love. Please know that this is not without cause, I did it to save myself, and to save you from knowing, but your eyes are pleading for an explanation.

Oh dearest mother, he is gone now, be happy, be proud of me. I have taken a criminal out of this world, one less for everyone else to worry about. I've taken him and everything he has done out of our lives permanently, we only have memories now, don't you realize how amazing that is?

I spent nights curled up in a ball beneath blankets and blankets, crying and remembering, clutching and tearing my skin apart, in hopes to get rid of the feelings of his grimy slimy fingers against my flesh. I spent nights shredding my skin and bones apart, trying to get the seam of my being to somehow dismember every part of me, split myself straight in half, to somehow to get everything you had given me from your body and everything he has given me completely seperated straight down the middle.
I wanted to be only you, to get rid of everything in me that was also in him.

I never wanted to tell you, I never wanted to see those tears fall from your eyes, leaving trails along your beautiful face. I never wanted you to know, I thought I could handle it on my own, and I could, I did. I handled it, I got rid of him.

As they lead me to those flashing blue and red lights, I look back at you, shaking and sobbing into my step-father's chest. I want to run back and take you in my arms, hold you like you have held me so many times. I want to make you feel safe like you have made me feel so many times. I want to be your rock and support like you have been mine.

As they drag me away, my feet slip and I fall into the grass, bloody and disgusting. I lay in the grass, staring at you, my beautiful mother.

Oh dearest mother, I am so sorry, please understand this, please understand everything.

Oh dearest mother, I love you.