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Carpet Scene MAG
Screams ring
from inside the
delicate sphere,
blood spatters on
maliciously smiling
walls, witnessing my
humiliation.
Was I not good
enough for you?
The neighbors roll
their eyes and say
nothing to no one,
because involvement
would seem like interference.
What is good when no one
hears the cries?
Piteously whimpering
from the pain in body
that shows no
physical evidence.
If good was all it is necessary
to be, the heart would not bleed.
Broken bones, scattered across
the beautiful raspberry carpet I
chose on graduation.
Bones of my heart, my
life, my existence
crushed to mere powder
on fibers 1/4" thick.
Will goodness ever
become reality?
Eyes still rolling
across that parapet
we laid when hope was
still alive.
Eyes will stare you
down, recognizing
the guilt I could never
admit, until I could
not deny.
Nails, those beautiful
nails I always adored,
scattered off beyond
recognition, as though
they had taken on the
characteristics of the dreams
I used to know,
before I met evil.
Goodness , what is, was
could it be?
Bitter tears shed, still
shimmering on the marble
counter-top where you cracked
my head, forcing my
mind into utter oblivion.
You always said I cared
too much for
my own good.
I thought you'd
never raise your
hand in vengeance.
I was only
trying to help!
I'm sorry,
I'm sorry,
I'm sorry ...
I can't be who you
want, I cannot
fulfill all your dreams.
Your dreams always took
precedence, even when
this living heartbeat,
disembodied from the
figure that was never
perfect enough to
please you.
Please, let go of my
heart now ...
you' ve killed me,
isn't that enough?
Must you cause
the me-that-used-to-be
to perish, too?
Please ....
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