why was i left when They returned?
why am i still while They are not?
why do i speak when They are silent?
why do i ask when They will not answer?

My name
I have forgotten
My purpose
I have none
My direction
I have lost
My Life

"Soon this will come to pass"
She looked at me
Turned, and covered her head
One last glance
And she walked away

Days passed in confusion
No food found to be edible
No water satisfied my thirst
I stood alone
Looking at where she'd stood
Days passed
And I did not know

She came again, briefly
Looked up
Into my eyes
"It is done"
Gone again

Fear gripped me
Shook out my soul
Wrung my stomach
And I just stood there
Alone
Days passed and I did not know
I did not know

Cold now
She stands over me
No tears
Flowers are left
Shortly before her own departure

The look in her eye grew colder by the instant. I knew I'd made a mistake the moment I'd said it. Her teeth bared and I think I caught a glimpse of fang. I am lost now in her eyes. Cold. Feral.

My blood runs hot in her hands and she smiles.

I think I got what I deserved. But then, do deathbed confessions really mean anything?

SometimeswordfailmeSometimestheyaretooshortSometimestheyarecumbersomeandunpronouncableSometimestheysaythingsjustbythewaytheylookonapageSometimes...

it
would
be
so easy
just to split that vessel
except
i can't stand pain

it would be quick
to push lead through bone
and brain
except
i don't hava gun

a noose is
too slow
poison
a mess
accidents too obvious
death by cop
much too public

some people are meant to live
if only in misery
some are not meant for happiness
and i am
i realize
one of those

She stood away from the facade and sighed. The work was becoming too difficult and the facade of her own life was cracking. She didn't know what to say to him anymore and it wouldn't matter anyway. He was gone.

The sigh turned to a scream as she realized what had happened.

The blood stains may never come out. At least not form her heart. Was she sorry? She didn't think so. She just stood and screamed at her own frustration.

He was gone and damn good riddance. The bastard had ruined her life, her freedom. He deserved every thrust of the knife.

She stopped screaming and walked away, spitting on him for good measure.