catharsis.

star-crossed.

i.
she does not love me;
I wear my soles out on the pavement outside of her house.

'a party', they say.
I don't think anything could help me forget her.

ii.
I was wrong.

see, this girl;
her eyes look like liquid fire,
her smile like fallen stars.

she is not like the others, and I wonder if she knows.

I ask her to dance, and she takes my hand.

static sparks between our palms.

iii.
you –
you are not who I think you are.

the fact puts me through agony.

but I decide eventually that it doesn't matter. not at all.

iv.
moonlight paints you into an angel.

I tell you that I've damned all consequences.

roses. the smell of roses everywhere in the night air.

you say you love me back. I tell you to meet me again tomorrow.

v.
they say you belong to another.

like hell, I reply them.

it was never a matter of belongings in the first place.

vi.
I used to think you were beautiful before,
but you bring me to my knees once I see you in white.

I think to myself that I could die now without regrets.

we say our vows and kiss with a lone witness, but it is enough.

I am yours and you are mine now, and together we will see both beginning and the end.

vii.
my love, I have erred –

I did not mean to –

it was an accident –

I am so sorry –

viii.
one last night.

your body beneath mine, my lips at your throat, the pulse at your wrists beating hard under my palms as you arch your back –

one last, godforsaken night.

ix.
things were not supposed to end this way.

it rips my heart out to see you so beautiful
yet so dead.

you did not wait for me.

how could you?

... no matter.

nothing matters.

not anymore.

I promised you we would see the end together.

and so we shall.