This Is What It Is
I turn away,
I try to never look back,
Never look again into your deep brown eyes,
But
I am too weak,
Your pull is too strong.
I gaze into your eyes, and you stare back.
You raise your hand, I flinch away
But you are only passing me a piece of paper,
You say,
This is the answer to your question.
I read.
I glance at you over the top of the paper,
You are watching me.
I ask myself,
Why?
Why did I not notice it before?
Why did I not see the blood under your nails?
Why did I not care about the scratches down your arms?
Why did I not realize what you are?
But I know now.
I pull something out of my back pocket and with a click,
A single flame dances.
I place the lighter under the paper and we watch.
The paper turns black, it curls, bits fall away,
And then it’s gone.
You smile.
You think that you are forgiven.
That I can forget what you have told me.
Believe what you must,
But I am not a fool.
You wrap your arms around me,
You whisper things in my ear.
You close your eyes as you kiss my neck.
I reach behind me, my hand fumbling over the surface.
And then I find what I am looking for.
My fingers curl around the hilt.
I whisper in your ear.
The truth hurts.
The blade slides from my grasp and I hear you cry.
Blood pours from the hole, the knife protruding from your stomach.
I step away.
Your hold breaks.
You gasp.
You reach out for me.
But I do not reach back.
My heart has turned to ice.
You have frozen it.
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