Below is the poem entitled Her First Homicide- part two which was written by poet
Craft. Please feel free to comment on this poem. However, please remember, PoetrySoup is a place of encouragement and growth.
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I tried to stand by my only love, I tried to understand until
The morning I stumbled in to find another woman beneath your covers.
It was the day I couldn’t believe my ignorance because I now saw
That when I threw drugs into you, you were just like my mother.
I told you that and your face paled at the ice in my words.
I turned away as you stood up, proving to me what you’d done.
At that moment I was so torn apart, and angry
Livid that I could have been so stupid to think you weren’t like everyone.
I left you naked and pleading. I refused to answer any of your calls
I tried to pick up the pieces of the girl you left broken.
I tried to pretend you were gone till I heard your voice on the machine
It had been weeks since we had spoken.
I’ll always hear your voice in my nightmares, begging me
Soft at first, then screaming, asking why I won’t take your call.
I listened to four messages, before you said you were ending your life
And I heard you smash the telephone against the wall.
I called you but I kept getting busy signals, so I left my house.
I ran all the way to your building, and slowed as I approached your open door.
I pushed it the rest of the way open to see you lying on your stomach
When I ran to you, I saw the needle on the floor.
When I rolled you over, your blue green eyes were lifeless.
I clung to you, screaming, Asking God is their any end to my pain?
I’ve never known sorrow that could compare with holding you Corey.
If it was okay for people like me to poison everything, hell and earth are the same.
I closed his eyelids with my fingertips, and gently kissed his cheek.
This would be the first man that I murdered with my disease.
I arranged his beautiful hair around him, I hadn’t noticed I was still screaming
Until I looked up to find my self surrounded my police.
They tore me off him, he was swarmed with paramedics.
They questioned my presence, all I could whisper was suicide.
His family was there now, his sisters and mother.
When they asked me why I was there, for them I lied.
I have to live with the guilt, of it being my fault forever.
You’re still some of my best and worst dreams.
I gave you my innocense, my heart, and part of my soul
The biggest part of me died with you when I was thirteen.