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Rated: 13+ · Poetry · Death · #1079448
A free verse poem that shows what guilt and hate does to someone who lets it control them
My eyes are firmly shut.
The stench burns my nostrils.
I’ve smelled it before.
“Darling, put that down!”
I breathe through my mouth to hide from it,
but it is too powerful.
I can’t forget it.
“This is not something to joke about.”
I can taste it.
I smack my lips and swallow,
trying to rid my mouth of its tainted taste.
“You could really hurt someone.”
Nothing works.
I open my eyes to see,
but it is as though a veil of gloom has been placed over them.
Stumbling through the darkness
my foot hits something solid.
“I can finally hurt you, the way you’ve hurt me”
Slowly I drop to my knees.
I lay my hand on stiff flesh
It feels clammy.
The cold overwhelms me.
“Please, honey, please, I love you!”
Hesitantly inching my way up
my hand becomes drenched in something moist and sticky.
I pull my hand away quickly.
“You, don’t love me. You never have.”
Tears run down my face
I feel something digging into my side
I touch it.
“I promise I’ll stop! I’ll be the best, you hear me? The best!”
It is lifeless, cold, metal.
I pull it from my waistband and clutch it blindly to my chest.
“It’s too late.”
My fingers run tenderly over its’ smooth features.
I remember.
I regret.
BAM

© Copyright 2006 Jillian Whitney (pinkstang at Writing.Com). All rights reserved.
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Printed from https://shop.writing.com/main/view_item/item_id/1079448-Haunted