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Serial
You killed it, dead. These seams are slit
Like gossamer throats; they owed you what
Could never be repaid.
Mirror blood-lit. A jacket's life-lights fade
Into whirled buttons on the carpet-down.
The window broken,
shatters stain the town.
Alarm-clock's steady ticks, quicken,
Die as heartbeats did, today
A skirt torn from her mother's grey
Pulled out an orphan; charcoal smears
Best case are frenzied-murder-tears;
Worst case, her shaken blazon skin
Is scattered with what came within
And is now without. One night -
Singular, brunette-like haze
Of kisses, fire, her, rebel, craze
Struggling to meet your gaze
"I'll kill something, one of these days..."
On that count, and the others,
you were right.
And in the corner lies a heap
Of glitters dulled and magic past
I yell, a whisper cuts me down.
"i promise this will be the last"
Wings soar past through pouring rain
You've gone straight through the gaping pane
That dress we bought in Faraway -
When the breeze could steal a breath -
And all of you was riversong -
And when you smiled the thought of death
Was scorched through with the smile -
So electric, beguile - alive
But dead. Bye. The dress, it gasps
Through silken, ruined lungs, it screams
Hung through twisted wires, blue
Has now been drawn and quartered too.
Does it, now, still hold your scent?
I dread to question my intent
A roomful's blood the cost I've spent for the
Answer - murmured, soft. "Repent."
(This peace just seems so...violent.)
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