Self-Executed Scars
I carry bittersweet memories of her-
I held such an ambivalent idea of who she truly was.
She was an angel by day yet arcane
darkness consumed her at night.
My tactile touches were measurable
and my instincts died when she fell off the cliff.
-Her disease killed her, really.
She would lay quiescent by day, then manic all night.
No matter how much effort I put into trying to save her I
knew eventually she would wither away like
the dried up white rose I placed gently on her tomb.
Somewhere between good and evil her
quintessence that once was so bright, lost
its way and shriveled up into nothing. She felt nothing
at the end.
-I felt everything from the start...
I was always the intercessor between her and God.
She fought Him so hard, and I praised him even harder.
She would walk around wearing flamboyant burn holes
on her sleeves to cover up the self-executed scars on her wrists.
Hell seemed luscious to her, as did her idea of dying.
I was nothing but an immolation; a sacrifice to be made
when times were too tough.
I’ll never hear her laugh, or kiss her cheek goodbye again-
and she will never know what it’s like to be truly loved.
-She died feeling... unloved
-Now I live feeling... unloved
Reversal hearts beat on, and one became two.
Separated from destruction and sadness-
a life wasted on abduction of madness.
Ten Words Used:
1. AMBIVALENT 2. ARCANE 3. BITTERSWEET 4. LUSCIOUS
5. INTERCESSOR 6. QUIESCENT 7. FLAMBOYANT
8 IMMOLATION 9. TACTILE 10 QUINTESSENCE
Ten Word Challenge 2
Sponsor: John Hamilton
November 4, 2016
Copyright © Beautiful Scars | Year Posted 2016
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