When you ask about one,
people tend to answer with another.

For example:
When you ask somebody
about love,
they tell you about
heart break.
Of physical pain
released through cathartic tears
and
the thumping pitter in your chest whenever you next see
their face.

And when they ask about
my boyfriend
I speak loudly and proudly
of my girlfriend's soft lips
and her love that echoes
as though she had brought light
unto my very essence.

When they ask about
the feel of the earth,
they talk not of the
touch and feel and gritty
texture
but the damp, rotting
smell discretely placed
for you to oppose.

So tell me, friend,
if I were to ask:
Have you had a good day?
Would you answer with the
time your dearest made you
cry
with laughter,
or would you answer with
the void that ***** the
laughter away?

Dear David,

You tore your way through my life, leaving a devastation known only to a few. When you were done, you picked at my intimacies until I had nobody left. But I'm no longer afraid of the big bad wolf. This is my revenge.

1. I'd balance a gas light above your head and set it alight. When you go running to your friends about my torture they'd smell an unconfrontable unease that would turn them away.
2. I'd cut out your tongue and push my fist down your throat, my fingers indulging in the gushing scarlet, invading your warm insides until your breathing is cut off and I reach your voice box.
3. I'd yank it out, celebrating in your juices that run down my arm. Now, when you turn to your dearest, they will only see the fear in your eyes when they mention my name.
4. I'd carve lost trenches into your arms so that the reminder of our war could never be forgotten. There's a rare kind of memory that makes you ache for it to leave.
5. I'd etch the word 'love' onto the back of your throat and watch you choke on it. I'd hope that every time this happened, you would be reminded of me and the quirky ways I showed my affection.
6. I'd leave you squirming in pain for days on end, my back turned in silence as the shackles slowly embrace your body.
7. I'd decide that you had been punished enough and nurse you back into health, stitching your tongue back on in zig zagged attempts to apologise.
8. The next day, I'd slowly unpick the shallow stitches and start the whole process again.
9. I'd blame you for my actions. 'Baby it's your fault you make me do these things, you're just too irresistible ' I'd whisper seductively to you as my knife slips down to your groin.
10. I'd render you useless to the rest of the world, steal your thoughts with my kiss and blow them into the wind. The altered version of them would reach our friends before your voice did. The silence that echoed only added to the rumours.
11. I'd slip my knife sexily between your skin, opening up a hole so that your entire vulnerability would be glowing.
12. I'd empty the entirety of your guts onto the floor and smile as the gas light falls on to your slumpened body.  A fire will erupt over it, burning the last shreds of hope as your lips will begin to melt. Gone are the mechanisms that may have led them to believe.
13. That night, I'd bathe in your guts, ******* over the feeling of power as your burnt corpse smoked nearby.