the death of me in a reflection

  • Oct. 27, 2015, 1:12 a.m.
  • |
  • Public

i felt it before i saw it in her eyes
her blade puncturing my ribcage
she pulled it out only to
plunge it deep in again
her eyes weren’t full of fire
but cold
pitch black
as she kept shoving that
knife in my chest
the warmth of the blood belied
how cold i was
and i imagined my fingers
ice box chilled
and blue to the
bone
i was a goner
no life in me to fight

i awoke with a startle
and pulling the covers off me
i looked
for a blood soaked tshirt
that wasnt there

yet


Loading comments...

You must be logged in to comment. Please sign in or join Prosebox to leave a comment.