There is blood on my hands
and it is hers
She has been compared to sugar
And compared to flowers
And I'm afraid she is dead
There was one too many
Flower analogies
And she broke
She stumbled forwards
and snatched a rose
She looked at it closely
She saw its red petals
And she saw its thorns
And she started to squeeze
She squeezes it until the flower
Was a lump of red
And blood started to ooze from her
Now open palms
Touching the sky
And kissing the air
I'm afraid I killed her
She tried to run so far from me
But I don't know what happened
She didn't exactly stumble
She didn't exactly stop
It was like she was backed into a corner and had to face me
With her bloody hands
And now swollen feet
How did I kill her
Slowly
Like killing a frog
Slowly turning up the temperature
Of boiling water
And now her body floats away
I kill her everyday
And maybe it kills me a little bit
That sometimes she recovers
And she lives once again
And I wish the girl stayed dead
Because the blood on my hands
Is my own
