peace.

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The taste of his smile, the warmth of his stare


The sin of his touch and his soft chocolate hair


But what kills her more than the scent of his essence


Is his lingering thought, the lack of his presence


His absence is noted in her black cheated eyes


As her pale, lifeless body taints the bed where it lies


The victorious knife, chapped with blood, stains her sheets


And her pillows and blankets scream back in defeat


They hunger for heartbeats, not of cold rotting flesh


And a pen leaves spilt ink on the note on the desk


It talks of her life, of its miserable end


And her stories and secrets now make sense to her friends


 


She wanted a hero, a prince in disguise


He didn’t know she meant it, he thought they were lies


With truth as her sidekick, irony laughs in his face


Since he was the reason she took her life from this place


His failure to see fatal love in her heart


He’d reject her advances; called them drunken remarks


His friendship her best—cohorts second to none


They’d kiss on occasion, labeled: nothing but fun


But she wanted more of this happy escape


Yet she’d date other boys to conquer her fate


 


He knew she was sad, but couldn’t figure out why


(For he loved her too, beat his own heartbeat’s cries)


She’d run to him always, with eyes full of woe


He assumed she’d want comfort, not his heart forever more


But alas, this last time, she came minutes too late


For her broken heart saw him kiss a girl at the gate


Her soul wrapped in shrouds and heart broken by Boy


She backed away slowly to not spoil his joy


 


She rushed back to her house; life determined to cease


Ran up the stairs, slit her wrists as relief


Wounds already open, blood poured out as her tears


And from dream to reality became her own darkest fears


Though lightheaded and dizzy, she made her way to her chair


And for the very last time, pulled back her shoulder-length hair


Her words turned to scribbles as sight faded away


She was blinded by tears, liquid crimson, and grays


 


She set the pen down and stumbled back to her bed


Within seconds of collapsing, her body was dead


Not two minutes later, he ran through the door


Since he did, in fact, see her just moments before


He tried to revive the true love of his life


Staring back at his image in her red blood-chapped knife


He knew in an instant that her feelings were real


And kicked himself twice with regret for their fears


Now alone more than ever, he gazed up above


And though now she is peaceful, he lost his true love


 


He, at once, backs away as her parents rush in


The thought enters his mind to commit his own deadly sin


With red flashing lights, medics rush to her aid


But alas, “You're too late” laughs the crimson chapped blade


As tears fill his eyes, he mutters “No more,”


He spills all his feelings he learned to ignore


Though hear he she can’t, he still bleeds out his heart


And begins his new life with her fatal depart


He looks one last time at his loverly dead


And walks down the stairs without turning his head


 


No matter how hard she tried, she couldn’t get him to see


For my lover, it’s you, and the dead girl, is me.

Created: Apr 22, 2014

Tags: love story, death poetry, sadness and love, poetry

Lindsey Mele Document Media