Flushed red
from the anger of the situation.
The blade pressed into your neck,
shaking with anticipation.
Should I cut your lips,
or just go straight for castration.
Don’t beg,
sadly there can be no negotiation.
I can’t feel it, but I can see it.
The knife in my back,
Words form perfectly in my mind,
but my mouth hangs slack.
I can’t cry, yes I have tried.
I should probably cut this short,
all because you lied.