As the blood ran down my fingertips
I grinned
But not as much as he was grinning at me
I knew he would forever haunt me
He's dead but his soul is still alive
I killed him,
For him
Actions spoke louder than words
He was slowly killing himself anyway,
Slowly poisoning himself with black thoughts
And wandering forbidden routes
I just finished the job
His job, not mine.
YOU ARE READING
Dark Aftermath
PoetryGraveyard for dark thoughts "Dark thoughts and careless whispers became the shadow of the person I once was". . . . . . I am entering a new chapter of my life and I am grateful for seeing more light than darkness now. Here's a collection of poems...
