My back twitches and
Pain shoots down my spine.
It's strange,
How words can become
A dangerous knife.
An action isn't
Necessary,
Only intent.
My blood on your hands,
Merely water in your
Eyes.
Sisters we whispered,
Murderer you became.
Remember me
In your dreams,
Remember my words,
The ones that bandaged
Your cuts,
And remember your words,
The ones that slit my wrists,
Punctured my back,
And watched me choke
On my own
False sense of security.