Work Text:
I.
I miss you, I suppose.
7 billion people
and still you’re the one I cherish the most.
7 billion people
and I find your eyes the clearest, the prettiest,
with those flecks of hazel twinkling like stars
in a sea of rich amber,
and the way they turn the brightest, most precious gold
when you let the light in instead of turning away from it.
I miss you, I suppose.
even when you keep your gaze downcast
and focused on another cooling body.
II.
All you did was kill.
I wondered if you loved at all
and you muttered
“I’m sorry”
instead of saying yes or no,
as if you would rather
end your life with your knife
than try to be human.
Do you remember?
we didn’t sleep together that night
and still you paid for my broken heart.
III.
I let out the most harrowing, blood-curdling scream.
It was so painful,
I wished you were there to witness it
as you witnessed all those crawling at your feet,
begging for mercy.
Except this time, there was no plead to sway your
frozen heart,
only the knowledge of innocent blood on your hands.
IV.
I wish we met in a different life,
one where we were meant to be,
fated, destined, all that romantic crap.
One where survival didn’t mean
shitty hotels and back alleys,
or a bounty over your head.
One where there was a little girl with
your eyes and my nose,
whose first name was short but sweet,
whose last name wasn’t bound to
death and misery.
V.
When I reminisce about the nights
you let the afterglow seep into the cracks
in your seemingly impenetrable armor,
a smile graced your lips,
and when you held me with gentleness rarely seen,
told me wishes of dreamless sleep and family,
I know I was right to let you have those nights for free.
Even if you would never admit it,
you kept coming back for me.
VI.
I miss you, I suppose.
Ironic, isn’t it?
You were once my life,
even if you extinguished souls
as the Grim Reaper in this cruel world.
I miss you, I suppose,
longing for the familiar scent of blood and fear
that clung to your clothes like parasites,
repulsive but missed all the same.
I miss you, I suppose,
with missing chunks in my heart and stomach, and all.
I miss you, I suppose,
past the chasm created
When you split our worlds apart,
I miss you, I suppose,
especially the sting of cold steel
making contact with bare skin
when i hurried to undress you.
I miss you, I suppose,
and how you never failed
to make your 1 AM appointment
even if it meant needing to borrow my shower
to wash off the grime and gore first.
I miss you, I suppose,
constantly asking myself why I moved us
from random hotels to my place.
I miss you, I suppose,
wondering why you accepted,
why we started something
we could never finish,
even if it was strangely beautiful while it lasted.
VII.
When you cried in your sleep once,
(I never told you)
you called out a name.
Anna.
You whimpered it so softly,
It was as if she never existed at all,
just a passing dream
remaining only in memory.