hi. i know its been awhile i posted anything and that’s mainly due to laziness. please forgive me. This post was written by Dare who in my opinion writes beautifully.follow him on instagram: @iam_sillyking. i hope you enjoy it. xoxo
WHAT IT FEELS LIKE
His back was turned and for a man imprisoned he spoke freely and happily. Only, she knew he was hers’ but she was no longer his. She had prepared a pistol and squeezed it between her butt and ripped jeans. She walked towards him as if down an aisle, her face flushed and her hands sweaty. She picked up a towel that was behind the dishwasher and wiped the telltale of anxiety off her palms. Just as she was about to take the next step she saw a tomato knife “Stealth” she thought , it was just what she needed. The knife was razor-sharp so she had to do it just once. She bit her lower lip hard and sighed lightly with every step she took. She was just a breath away from him now, he wondered what the surprise was and she closed her eyes, held her breath, counted 3…2…1 and thrust as hard as she could. She opened her eyes and he was collapsing down the table. In that falling motion he stared up at her with eyes conveying confusion and betrayal. Tears trickled down her big beautiful eyes and then he understood. His throat was wide open like it had been waiting for this day, his pipe hissed twice from freedom and blood spurted out severally on the kitchen tiles. He dragged himself and left a trail of blood behind him. He just wanted to see the light one more time. She followed him slowly and granted his wish. His eyes; red and watery thanked her for being spontaneous and assertive. At that point she couldn’t bear to watch him suffer. Three revolver shots to the head to finish the job, the force was much that some parts of his gut shattered the window to escape, portions of his brain splashed across the familiar floor, his blood splattered to the roof was the last thing he last saw. She picked up the keys from the living room, relieved she had finally set him free, took her car and hit the road.
WHAT IT SHOULDN’T BE
She was a murderer, he knew, she knew he knew, so when the time came, she didn’t hesitate. She respected him, and every murderer knows that it is luxury to die quickly. He opened his eyes and it was only a transition into another day. He wished the dream were true, broken and alone he knew he had gone too far to leave the holes in his heart to time. He owed himself too much. He was in great debt, and his like every other heart was a Shylock. He gave too much and felt too little. He hadn’t gotten over her. He loved her too much and now paid in pain for the love he gave and the love she didn’t feel. He wished she had broken his heart long ago; he would have had enough time to resurrect his heart. She led him on till he was immortally in love and exchanged it with hurt. She waited until he was too frail to bear the pain of a broken heart then broke him and made sure he died slowly and painfully. Though emotional death is underrated, only the wise know thy death is only a messenger, the enemies behind the cloak are time and pain.