She
she came to me again last night, scratching at my window in the way that is quickly becoming familiar. i let her in, half expecting the tears to start flowing again. but today they do not.
her eyes are filled with the pain she hides from the world. she speaks not a word to me as she slowly sinks to the floor. i follow her down and finally notice her reason for being here tonight.
on her wrist is the evidence of her pain. the blood slowly spreads outward, staining her pale skin with its bright slash of colour. the glittering glass shard, her blood splattered on its edge, tumbles out of her hand and bounces silently on the carpet.
holding her torn flesh gently i kiss the wound, her blood flowing past my lips, staining them with her anger. she will not let me bind the slash nor tend to her pain, wanting the crimson flow to release her inner hurt.
having released her pain for the moment, she presses a quick, angry kiss on my blood-stained lips and silently leaves me. peace once again descends on the room. the only remaining evidence of her presence is the glass on the carpet and the taste of her blood on my lips. and once again i sleep, my dreams are now coloured by her anger, her pain, her blood and my own tainted love.
Part 3