A Murder, A Suicide!

I want to take our egos in each hand,

And bang them against each other.

Hard enough to reduce them to dust,

Long enough to swirl up a storm,

To drown our false selves.

There is no salvation in an ending.

Struggle is real, fight is real.

Rest is all an illusion.

The marks of love and sex on our necks are real,

The love, however, is an illusion.

We are evil snakes; slithering over each other,

Hissing, teasing, threatening.

A constant threat to walk away, to love.

Mean, unforgiving, relentless.

But, we never bite!

Our poison for the other floods our own minds.

I work up the courage to cut you in half,

That night you hissed in my ear again.

One quick swing of the knife!

And as you lay wasted, spent in a pool of green blood,

I watched myself bleed to death, cut in half!

I take your severed body in one hand,

My angry knife in the other, and watch.

No tears are shed that night,

While my perplexed brain contemplates a murder and a suicide,

I look into your dying eyes from mine turning fast to stone.