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Colleen Reilly Mar 2018
My eyes are blue.
Black and blue.
My skin is pale white with freckles.
Freckles of blood spatter that reached my face.
The red and blue go really well together.
Maybe I should redye my hair red.
Red like the blood that once belonged to someone of importance.
It was his fault he came onto me.
So I took my knife and I taught him a lesson.
1: don’t take what isn’t yours
2: say please and thank you
3: no means no
4: hands to yourself
5: if you don’t fix your mistake you die.
He died. I had to teach him over and over again.
10 for each lesson. Just so it really stuck with him.
Hopefully he received the message if not the police will find all my hidden clues. And if I’m lucky they’ll find me. I’ll tell them everything.
Like the good little girl my daddy raised me to be.
Smile and widen your eyes and tilt your head and speak soft and sweet.
Be who they want you to be during the day, so you can be who you want to be at night.
You can be the murderess you were meant to become. Or you can just blow off some steam. But don’t leave a mess now or you’ll definitely get caught. But you can’t leave nothing behind so leave them something to work with.
You’re the riddle they’re trying to figure out so make the riddle worth understanding.
My riddle is complicated because I want it to be. Because I was born to be complicated.
Nothing can stop me if I put my mind to it.
So sleep tight knowing everything’s going to be safe.
If only he had followed the rules my eyes would just be blue and my skin would just be a pale white with natural freckles not blood speckles.
But he tried to take a part of me that took so long for me to recover and I couldn’t let him get away with what he’d done.
So all the bloods on him.
He chose this path.
I just helped end it.
Disclaimer no one came to harm whilst writing and making this poem it’s pure fiction. And there are no plans to harm anyone I just watched some creepy movies and wanted to share the vibe I guess.
Traveler Aug 2017
I have falling behind
And I can't keep up
With all the poets
On this HP buss
Silently reading
In airplane mode
Fingers tapping
Exposing souls
I can't keep up
I can't reload
Saturated in
Solid gold
...
Traveler Tim

— The End —