thewaitingone

I first approached you with two empty hands.
Both held up so you could see I was unarmed.
You smiled and spread your arms.
You smiled still as I bled out in your arms.
I never even saw the blade.
I then approached with one blade
held in my sinister hand.
The dexter held in front.
Empty, to show I was defending
not attacking.
You looked at me with such an innocent
questioning, face.
I dropped my dagger
to rush to your embrace.
Again, I died with a question
unspoken on my lips.
I then faced you,
a blade in each hand.
No room for defence.
My paranoia looking 360.
You wept openly and I tried
to ignore you.
My mistake was truly loving you.
Your tears rusted and dulled my edges.
I turned them on myself.
It took effort, but a vein was opened.
The next time I see your face
I shall turn my back on you.
It won't be a suprise,
the push through my ribs.
At least the view won't be
your wet eyes.
I still can't see those
without aching.