For What Its Worth - poems

Remember

4-15-15

*if you can't handle slight violence don't read this. This is my first poem kind of like that and I didn't plan it it just happened.*

I remember the blood
spilt on the floor like a flood
dripping like a leaky sink
worse than I could ever think
I remember the broken mug, all over the beautiful living room rug
I remember the way you screamed
worse than I could have ever dreamed
the knife was stainless steel
with a heaviness to the feel
it was a butcher's knife with a long rectangle blade
and that memory will never fade
you were drinking your coffee again and sitting on the couch
with your upright way without a slouch
I tried again and again to get your eye
you didn't give it to me and why?
Its been a long period of distress between us and I've tried to work things out
but you seemed to be okay that peace we lived without
I lost it that day
because I seemed to be in the way
I took your coffee and threw it in your face
And smashed the mug without haste
you yelled and asked me what I was doing
I pulled the knife out and said "Proving"
proving what?
"that I am not a weakling
I have to handle things
and you will be no one's but mine
so here comes the time
you don't want me
I see
so you must not want anything"
I yelled so deafening
I whacked you in the head
and out came red
it was like all the slasher movies I've ever watched
which launched
all the anger of you not wanting me drove to do it
and your screams became muted
because soon you faded away
and I hacked till I felt okay
I wanted you
I did what I had to do
at least that's what I didn't tell the police
who arrested me
After you didn't show up at work for a while
and I didn't hide my smile
a search warrant was filed
and they found you chopped and vile
I was questioned and arrested for your murder and I won't deny
I'll admit it all and not even cry
I was sentenced to death because of the gruesome crime
because I wouldn't learn anything by doing time
and while I wait
in this messed of state
locked in a prison cell
in ten years I'll be on my way to hell
I can't say I'm sorry for what I did to you
and to be true
this is the way it has to be
I remember your face and I remember it well
while I sit in this cell
and think of it
and write this letter while I sit
at least when I'm dead and gone
you've been for long
will we meet again
even if you don't love me then?
its okay
I'm deal with it and it will stay
because I had you first
and gave you the worst