Lacerations

It was a night like no horrifying other, when I left a poem next to my lover — bloody tears will be the last remembered.

hat went through my head were the fragments of my demented mind, burning off the steam of the pain I endured, and the lacerations against my heart caused me to want to scorch the mattress where the head of the deceiver rests! Only to realize, this too, is my wreck. The night grew colder as I began sprinkling my tears along the edges of the bed; but no response as I think of what must be done. I am an invisible reincarnation. I stitch letter by letter, and I do it in red, so maybe now I won’t be invisible as I recline in this tormented bed. My bloodshed means nothing as I dot the I in my last name with the vital fluid spilling out of my frigid veins, and slide in the muck flowing through my psyche, now I know this bed will haunt me!

The lightning-lit room struck fear, but with each flash it all came clear, and it was only me and the abused bed in the room… but did anyone notice the red where the head would rest? It’s not easy to miss that white pillowcase covered in the spillage of severed veins. Lie there and stare out the window, do what you do, because I’m still invisible. I’ll recline and read a gruesome tale, now that the clouds have parted and the moon lights the pages of this horrifying anthology. “The bed is quite still, did you take your last breath?” I asked the corpse lying here next to me on this stained mattress… but again, no response.

As I turn the pages of this book of tales, a frightful one reveals itself! It shows the corpse lying so neatly in bed, placed in an elegant position to look like it hasn’t faded! I look over and still I see blood, dripping on the floor, in red puddles of fun! Oh, I’m still ignored, but of course I saw it coming; I gave this relationship my all, and now I must go rummaging; through my chest where I will find my equipment, to deal with this in a manner I feel is adequate. This is the last infliction upon my torn heart — a beating curse I’ve come to know quite well! Dragging me down a path of misery and humiliation… maybe it‘s time I face my reflection? I left the misery and humiliation at the cellar door, where once I will feel at peace knowing you’ll never ignore me once more!

I will continue to recline in this bed, staring at a face covered in red, so maybe a writer can write another tale, and I can imagine it’s you being impaled! While I wouldn’t exactly go with that, I’d settle for a warm snack, of the vital fluid you once made me spill, so lie still! I’m sorry, you can’t move; well, lie there with red dripping from your nose, while I go to the cellar, grab my equipment, drag it upstairs and get to dismembering! This is going to be fun, I have pictured this for too long — premeditated!

Piece by piece you break apart: head, arms, legs, and oh I can’t forget that heart! Ooh, it’s still beating, let me take care of that — crunch crunch, snap snap, with my tiny axe! How do you feel about that? Have no feeling? Let’s see if you’re still numb. Could the sedative be wearing off? Let me paint on this canvas in red, as you ignore me in our dark bed. “What I want from you is a gift of the red art. It flows through your veins and makes you live, but I’ll take only a little, and let you hemorrhage. Mwahahahahahahahaha!”

It’s a sight I’ve played over and over, another tale that’s been written in May, and another body I must bury, to ease my mind in order to live day to day. Rest in hate and isolation, in my storage locker; wrapped in a lovely red and white carnation! You’ll forever remember my name, and this lovely occasion, and I‘ll play it again, because memories are forever imprinted!

My anthology is now complete, and my only worry is that the feds will raid.