Time seems to drift off listlessly, almost endlessly, almost ending, in one smoothe uncertain movement.
i lower my gaze to realize that the warmth that spreads down my legs is my own blood, draining from my veins. In a softly lapping waterfall stained beautifully crimson. Take in the handle of the blade that my body seems to draw in like a lover- with gentle caresses and a loving gaze. A flush warmth about my skin. my face nearly aglow. It is to those who watch it grim. But barely a smile escapes my lips. When i realize that the protruding hilt is equisitely ornate, crafted from silver memories of smiles, interwoven with platinum hopes i had for our future, inlaid with opalescent ignorance. It's irridescence reminds me of our bliss. Intrigued, i bear the blade and pull it free, loosing a metallic shower of rusted red and liquid iron. And in the split second i have left before after my last breath i expire, i lay my eyes on the blade.It is just as breathtakingly beautiful and forged from what seems all the lies you told to my face. Lies so laced with grace that i, the cynic, believed them in full. Dead, i don't even have time to speak before i fall. But i think
"your betrayal, though painful, is beautiful.