Bleeding Out Love

”I Loved You,” he says, cleaning his blade
Scarlet stains etched from my veins form intricate lines,
splashed on the cuffs of his crisp white shirt. 
My words seem slurred as in vain,
I try to pitch my need to live.

But he looks at me with unforgiving eyes.
I feel my heart capsize into forgotten pools,
where only those fooled find themselves adrift. 

Is this to be it?

I beg him to forgive!
For what, I don’t even understand.
How did we get to this?
Where my blood stains his hands,
and my life hangs on a single thread.
I might as well already be dead. 

His eyes grill into my own.
I close them tight and try to think of home.
Lightheaded I sink into my demise,
fading fast, this very moment I embrace to be my last 

I hear his feet scrape beside my head

“It’s okay, my love.
All will be right once you’re dead,
remember, you made your bed.” 

I feel the cold sharpness of his blade sliding down my spine,  
cutting through me like a scythe cuts through vine. 

“Sublime” he whispers,
tracing his fingers along the trail he carved into my back.
Pearls of ruby red teeter on the edge of his flesh,
as he paints his lips blood red.
I’m passing out,
while the fear of death melts away,
and I look forward to being freed from loves insane need,
to purge and feed

Body numb,
mind and soul succumb,
welcoming the abyss...

He kneels beside me,
with those blood-red lips,
and gently gifts me one last kiss