Snuff

I pushed the pale wood of the door gently, feeling its weight give easily under my touch. The mirror, that's the first thing I saw shining silver in the candlelight. The reflection of an empty shell of a woman in her Sunday best, hair perfectly set in an elaborate do, make up applied precisely. Hollow eyes, the corners of my mouth turn up in a broken, ironic smile. The door closes silently as I kick it lightly with a high heel encased foot.

Bury all your secrets in my skin.
Come away with innocence and leave me with my sins.

The shoes land with a small thump, muffled by the thick carpet. My fingers trail along the smooth wood of the cabinet, feeling each little notch and dent. My hand skims the petals of a single rose and they fall, dead to the surface surrounding the glass vase. My eyes flash up to meet those of my reflection once more, dark eyes study one another.

The air around me still feels like a cage.
And love is just a camouflage for what resembles rage again...

My fingers comb through my hair, tugging out the clips, the pins, the ribbons. Destroying the perfection. I cross the room, feet sinking into plush carpet, and find the clock. Examine it's ornate hands, the roman numerals they point to. Cradle the truth encased in metal in my hands. It's been hours now, you're not coming are you?

So if you love me let me go.
And run away before I know.

I flop down on the bed, all neatly made up for you. Silken sheets in beautiful shades. Sitting in the corner of a darkened room. One of the candles flickers, burns itself into obliteration and leaves darkness creeping in its place. The smoke curls through the room, filling it with the sweet scent of burning wax. Fingers fumble around my neck, find the clasp of jewelery. The necklace falls, silvery between my fingers to be swallowed up by the folds of sheets. You gave me that you know.

My heart is just to dark to care.
You can't destroy what isn't there.

I'm back by the mirror again. Guitar on the stand, matt black, faintly shiny from previous use. My fingers leave darker streaks and come away with a pale grey coating. Dust falls to the ground, caught in pale light.

Deliver me into my fate.
If I'm alone I cannot hate.

I work my way up the strings, the neck, faint vibrations ringing through the room, until I reach the satin hat rested on top. A top hat, my fingers tell as they skim the rim, find the ribbon. Images flash into my mind. You, us, that damn hat I always used to nick. Your precious damn hat.

I don't deserve to have you.
My smile was taken long ago, if I can change I hope I never know.

I leaver the hat away from the tuning pegs delicately, feel the rough felt lining contrast with the soft outside. My eyes betray emotion in the mirror as I bring it to my heart. My lips touch it gently and I pause silently. Then my hands turn, twist the hat so it hovers in the air just above my tousled hair. Time stands, a freeze frame before I hurriedly drop it back down onto it's resting place upon the guitar.

I still press your letters to my lips.
And cherish them in parts of me that savour every kiss.

I crouch lower, tracing the words on the front of an old photo album, battered from fond use. I don't dare open it, see the clippings, the letters, the trinkets, the photos, the painful reminders of you and what you were... What you could be... What you've become.

I couldn't face a life without your light.
But all of that was ripped apart, when you refuse to fight.

Paper crackles as pages turn. Photos fall loose, scatter across the floor. I pull out written prose, an envelope, hold it to my heart, discard it. Tear out photos, corners that were one glued down rip off with a satisfying sound. I fold one in two, take you out of the image. The pictures fall like confetti around me.

So save your breath I will no hear.
I think I made it very clear.

I flop back against the bed, numb shoulder blades colliding with the wood. Something catches my eye. I reach for the small framed photograph on the bedside table. It's you, us. Sunshine, laughs, happiness. Cool glass touches the skin of my chest as I hug the frame. It's not you...

You couldn't hate enough to love.
Is that supposed to be enough?

You're not here, your arms aren't around me. You're not keeping me safe an warm. Planting kisses on my lips, murmuring to me. You never do, not now. I stare down at the photo again before it goes flying into the wall. It stays there, shattered glass glinting coldly back at me.

I only wish you weren't my friend.
Then I could hurt you in the end.

Then I'm on my hands and knees, scrabbling, trying to put the pieces back together. Soft palms fumble over cruel glass. It cuts deep, pain, heartbreak, blood flowing. The carpet begins to turn red under drips from my broken skin. Who am I kidding? Things like this can't be fixed, it only causes more pain. I'm still trying though...

I never claimed to be a saint...
My own was banished long ago, it took the death of hope to let you go.

My breath shakes from the pain. My dress rips as I try to form makeshift bandages. Screams in the ambient light, tears glittering like diamonds on cheeks. Dark streaks of ruined fake beauty over pale skin. Blood stained elegance. beads bounce across the ground as I rip off a bracelet.

So break yourself against my stones.
A spit your pity in my soul.

Sobs quieten slowly, replaced by anger and rage. You betrayed me, lied, cheated. Said you loved me. You promised... I believed you. I was an idiot. I didn't listen, smitten as I was, to those who knew better. Those who knew you.

You never needed any help.
You sold me out to save yourself.

I hit the wall with painful fists, again and again. Shouting words of venom at you. The mirror breaks, disintegrates in a crystal shower, cascading over me like a waterfall. Tiny scratches, tears in fabric.

And i won't listen to your shame.
You ran away, you're all the same.

I laugh into the night, to the pain, at you. The ruin, our relationship. The lie I can now see in plain view, uncovered and obvious as the mess that surrounds me.

Angels lie to keep control.
My love was punished long ago.

My fingers brush a candle, knock it onto meaningless photos. I catch a glimpse in a single shard of mirror remaining. Me, liberated, free, crazy, ruined beauty, perfect in the carnage. Smiling at grief.

If you still care don't ever let me know...
"If you still care don't ever let me know."