Looking down at these pale arms
Translucent enough to see the map like trail of blue veins in my arms.
And just to the right, a scar.
That is all it took.
One glance and
I’m time traveling
The handsome man
who’s stolen my heart
And is trying to
tell me something fades out….
And I’m in my bathtub
Blood everywhere
I’m naked and numb
What I’m guessing used to be hot water
Is now ice cold.
I glance at my fingers
And through the blood
I see they are shriveled and
Hint that time evaded me.
How long had I been in there?
Why can’t I feel anything…
I remember the look of
terror on his face
As he rushed in to see me.
Tears streaming down his face
asking why
and profusely apologizing
Sigh… I didn’t try to kill myself!
I just wanted to feel something.
Maybe if I cut myself
The pain he caused will subside and
I can feel something else.
It feels as if I only felt the pain from him
For days
I wasn’t scared to die
But I wasn’t trying to either
I wouldn’t be sad if I did.
But not risking it either.
His endless stream of questionable
Tears fell on my wrist.
I was completely mesmerized as
I watched tears mix with drops of blood.
Unable to look away, I chuckled at the irony.
He causes the pain that caused the blood that caused his tears.
Next thing I know I’m being pulled out of the pink stained bath, wrapped up in a towel and held tightly.
I had hoped that, maybe, he finally saw what he was doing to me.
Not even
7 minutes later
I hear:
“Well if you didn’t…”
A line he spewed often
Yes it is my fault.
Although it was nice to pretend
That for the 6 minutes prior
He may actually feel accountable and possibly sorry.
Oh what a fairy tale that would be.
