Blood runs down my forearm
Warmth streaming between my shaking fingers
I hold an aching vessel
Stench of iron lingers
Ground makes contact with my knees
Tasting my own salty tears
“This does not belong to me!”
I scream, nobody hears
I look around me. Panic
The world around me blurry
The people do not see me
Everyone in a hurry
“I need to find the man
To whom this belongs!”
No one gives a damn
Yelling at the top of my lungs
My conscious is leaving me
I am loosing resistance
World absent. Falling, falling
Hear my own cry in the distance
Then I see him in the dark
Scream his name, no sound
I run. I run so hard
He stays the same, I am bound
Reaching out with bloodstained hands
Holding this mangled heart
“You are dying here alone!
Take it back before it falls apart!”
Our gazes meet. His painful eyes
Full of hurt and despair
Gently walks to where I am
Touches my dirty hair
Suddenly speechless
I stand. I stare. I wait
We kiss, we cry, his lips I’ve missed
Our blood, our tears I taste
His forehead against mine
Stares me in the eye
Whispers “My heart is thine”
One last kiss. Goodbye
What am I to do
With the heart I used to adore
Now embracing its blood
That I am responsible for
Crimson beneath my fingernails
My hands forever stained
This reminder of my crime
Will always. Will forever remain.
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My goodness. This is powerful. I can only presume the things you are alluding to in this lament; though the ideas seem graphic and cogent. I appreciate your scope; as with your other work that I've come across, there is an intensity, yet there is a gentle readability and the reader can resound somewhere deep within, though they may not have shared your experience.
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