Work Text:
He snuck in on a waning night, my breath as cold as ice
He told me that he cared for me, despite my every vice
He made me feel safe in his arms, as we watched the setting sun
I never did believe their warnings as to what would come
His words, once warm and clear, began to feel like chains
This house no longer felt like home, but a place to hide my pain
The irony’s not lost on me, the Stockholm became my life
Still, I never would have expected him to grab that knife
But what keeps me up at night about the day I changed?
He had no excuse for what he’d done, he was sober and far from deranged
I told him “dear, you need some rest, it’s been a long, long day”
I couldn’t let him see my fear, I had to keep him at bay
It wasn’t until I saw a crimson fall to the floor
That I realized I had never begun my evening chores!
I cleaned the counters of a gray mush, dug a garden in the yard
My flowers grew great that year, but forever I’d be scarred