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Killing Beauty
February 1, 2010
I would touch the edge of his skin
just to feel his bones
and press against them
and break them
and mend them
until I was exhausted from trying to kill him
He would touch my cheek
with flaming hands
and beg me to stop
For he was trying not to cry
But I just laughed
at what he had done
at what he forgot
That he was still breathing
and I was still burning
And I was hysterical
because he had gone
and forgotten what I could never
That he was breathing
and I wanted him dead
© Elaina V., Canton, OH
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