Memoirs Of A Murderer

I sit at your table

Writing your suicide

With a pen

knife

I write

And I write

And I write

Till all the ink

Blood.

Devours me.

I cry into the dead.

My dead.

I hug you to me.

And beg you to awaken.

I clutch your hideous shoes,

A token of your life,

Gone.

And run with you

To the sofa

And place you down

And kiss you all over

My name over your face

On your face

Why couldn't you just be faithful?

Maybe then we could enjoy our lives

But now

You are my corpse bride