before you contemplate that sharpened knife,
that is not ****** to other skin
- and sensually slit me open
from the neck.
my last tears that dilute with red will
vainly stain your pail shirt.

let me diffuse through your cold skin
so the knife that hovers above me
won't erase my trace.

staring at this mirror
I feel you approach at my shadow
trailing the knife.

my time cut short.
to save my guts from splitting,
I purge out all your substance that I had consumed.
with it, out came the bottled voice you raided me for
every night when you were dry with thirst.

eyes whisper to mine
that this wasn't your intent.
but I disagreed when red ran down my spine