Lacerated Flesh and Heart

I will slither around your neck and gnaw at your flesh till I mutilate you.

I will bore my squalid, viridescent canines into your heart and rip out every capillary till i efface the crimson hue.

I love green. It’s a fatal mistake humans find solace in the colour.

Green is venom. It will guzzle your souls till you die a most agonizing death. Green is the hue that will exude from my eyes till you smother.

I am a warped viper.

I will hold you spellbound under the spell of my shamrock eyes.

I will ambush you as I hold you captive in the sequestered dungeons of my life.

I will leave you biting the dust on the filthy ground where the blood of thousands have dried.

I will grow mighty and robust as you rot to death. The more you rot, the more I solidify. But sinks way deeper in my heart, the knife.

I lost her.

The bedlamite that painted the darkest of my skies a lovely red.

She wrote on them the perfect chance at happiness for me. A forever with her. Just me and her.

But my story was written in tragic ink and distorted calligraphy with a begrimed ‘The End.’

Happiness came gratuitously and my mind fell apart in disarray.

So I finished it.

I extinguished it.

The warmth of joy,

I snuffed it.

I killed her.

She’s gone.

She took away with her the happiness she proffered to me.

I killed her.

She took away with her all the goodness she proffered to me

I killed her

She took away with her all the forever she proffered to me

I killed her

I

killed

her

And now with her gone, what good lies in goodness?

So I quench my remorse with the ballads of death

The death of souls that find joy but never content.

The death of souls that are reserved but never abrasive.

The death of souls who are a bag of emotions but never vent.

The death of souls that survive but never live.

Because with her gone, what good lies in goodness?

I am an incandescent homicide.

I will hold you spellbound under the spell of my shamrock eyes.

I will ambush you as I hold you captive in the sequestered dungeons of my life.

I will leave you biting the dust on the filthy ground where the blood of thousands have dried.

I will grow mighty and robust as you rot to death. The more you rot, the more I solidify. But sinks way deeper in my heart, the knife.

For

I

Lost

Her.

Notes: Part 3 of the ‘Shamrock’ mini series