Withering to Death

Published December 13, 2011 by atirahjewel

My poor sweet love,

Begging for my mercy,

Tears pouring out of her eyes,

One after another,

Like a river,

That’s right my darling,

Cry me a river,

A smile spreads its way across my face,

Please,

She begs,

Please,

I can hear her bargains no more,

I’ve loved her too long to let her stay with him,

Yes my baby,

Cry for me.

The knife finds its way into my hand,

The blade sharpened to a point,

It could cut through stone,

But could it cut through skin?

As she sees the blade,

My honey, my sweet,

Her cries become even louder,

I could promise her it would be quick,

That she would feel little to no pain,

But I have loved her too much to lie to her,

After the pain she caused me,

After I loved her so,

Even now she is my only love,

I gave her my life,

She took my body,

My beauty, my flower,

Don’t cry so hard,

You will ruin your dress.

The make-up runs down her face with such precision,

The perfect face for her to wear,

Her true face,

Not so pretty anymore is it,

My diamond,

You have done so very well my lovely,

You look most beautiful to me,

No one can see you how I do,

No, please,

She continues to beg,

I’m sorry,

She says,

Apology accepted my love,

But you will leave me again,

It still must be done.

The blade rushed forth,

As it did she screamed,

My little kitten,

No one can hear your cries,

Just me,

But I do not listen,

The sharp point finally reaches her dress,

I tear a shred,

Over and over I shred her dress,

Ruined,

Broken,

It is now your turn my lovely.

Her skin broke so gracefully,

No surprise to me,

My love, my life,

Always so graceful,

Straight into her chest it went,

One pained scream arose from her neck,

Right through the heart my love,

So it will be quicker for you,

And much more satisfactory for me,

The knife lodged in so deep,

Puncturing her heart,

As I take my knife out from her bosom,

Her blood pours all over my hands,

Sticky, crimson,

It doesn’t stop,

Pouring and pouring,

Like a river,

That’s right my darling,

Bleed me a river.

Please,

She whispers,

Too late to save you now my dear,

Too late.

Her once beautiful dress,

Now torn into shreds,

And yet she still looks oh so lovely in it,

Scarlet suits you more than white my scarlet rose,

Poor baby,

Shaking,

Becoming cold.

My unfortunate heart,

Lying in my arms,

Withering to death.

Yes my world,

Now you rest,

Now you can never leave,

Now you have been saved from the urges,

That make you want to leave,

Oh my dear dear forever,

Forever with me always you will be.

We belong together my honey,

My sugar plum,

We are alike in so many ways,

There is one thing that sets us apart,

Unlike you,

I’m not sorry.

Love me,

As I join you,

You will love me,

The  knife I used to take your heart lies on the floor next to you,

Oh my everything,

We will be together soon,

The river you cried for me is now polluted with blood,

Your delicious honey like blood.

The still sharp blade is stained with your sweet red color,

Much like your once white dress,

I’ve loved you too long,

I’ve loved you too much,

I’ve loved you too deep,

I’ve loved you too strong,

I cannot live without you, my sunshine.

I feel no pain as our blade slides across my throat,

I feel freedom and nothing more,

As I lie there,

In my last few seconds,

I see her face,

I hear her pleads,

Her blood still pours from her body.

That’s right my darling,

Bleed me a river.

Copyright © 2011 by

Atirah Jewel

3 comments on “Withering to Death

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