Poems

When He Killed Me

I let him kill me. I let him extinguish the fire of my soul. I knew he was ice and I knew he'd kill me. I laughed as his freezing fingers brushed over the flames of my heart. Each time stopped and spread the rhythmic beats further and further apart. Eventually I'd flatline. And with every breath stealing kiss I knew he knew that I wasn't going to make it to see the sunrise.

And I let him because I was ruined before we met and I'd be ruined long after he left. None of the fairy tales ever warned me about this point of life- the point where you're too broken to be glued back together. I was past the point of true love's kiss reversing this curse or the age of Prince Charming coming to rescue me.

I let him in while fully comprehending the consequences. No one I really cared about would look at me. He was the only one. He pretended he loved me and I pretended he didn't lie through his teeth. I was always pushed aside into the shadows. Now I was a star. This was my time to shine and expand before I collapsed into myself.

I clawed at my own chest on some lonely nights; hoping the cage would open and the red cardinal would be freed from her beating chains. The way his water danced around my blaze was mockery. My life could not end fast enough. Each tear took its time in rolling over the natural body curves score landing on my torso. I was dead before I had lived.

Death is usually portrayed as painless and peaceful. Every second up to my last breath felt like drowning when I knew how to swim. Because even though I was dying, life did not give me a free pass. It treated me equally as everyone else. I took my sinister thoughts and bleeding body with me. I felt every bit of agony to my last second.

He was my best friend. I loved my best friend. What we had was pouring gasoline on an open flame. I should've stopped before the flame engulfed everything I stood for. But once the flames licked my fingers I could help but want to feel the burn from my head to my toes. We were sick. We were mad and no one helped us. We fended for ourselves in every wrong way. Each turning to our own pain and demise. He found his comfort in ending of me and I found comfort in the afterlife.