[You kill me, Dear]

You hold a knife.
It’s wavering right above my chest.
Swaying in beat with your waves of rage,
They are pulsing off your skin,
Like a rave.
You inch the knife into me,
Ignoring my pleading.
You always said that you loved the bleeding.
And you don’t even know.
[You kill me, dear and
You do not even see.]
Your fist hits me right upside the head,
I don’t think as I fall,
Just that I love the feeling.
And you always said that you loved the bleeding.
[You kill me so, my sweetheart.
You don’t even know.]
Ordinary day, I’d say.
Full of this dispatch of reasoning.
One kiss to the lips,
Not me,
And I fall deeper into the sand.
Underground where no one will find me.
Hell, who’d come looking for me?
[You did kill me,
But no one can know.]
Murderous love, I’d say!
Or should I say a jealous fit of rage?
Though you plunged your knife,
Into the heart of me,
And though you knocked
Me to the ground,
I cannot say I didn’t warn you.
My dear, who lies underground.

.Alyss.
6.8.08