written: may 9, 2020 (day 305)
TITLE: it's him and i in a burning room. the camera pans out. i'm holding the match. the next scene opens.
it's him and i in a burning room.
we stare at each other as flames devour the air.
neither of us say a word
and we're content to pretend like the other isn't there.
the camera pans out
and shows that there are no doors.
his gaze is as heavy as his iron-tight grip
and eyes, like his hands, are cold and coarse.
i'm holding the match
and my other hand is clutching a gun.
it's pointed at his head;
as far as bullets go, i have one.
the next scene opens
and only one of us has exited the room.
i'll give you a hint: one of us was guilty
and one of us was the deliverer of doom.
-i was doomed the day i met you; it's only fitting i delivered the killing blow
YOU ARE READING
it hurts until it doesn't
Poetrya collection of poetry the start of the story: 7•09•2019 published 7•09•2020 trigger warning: rape
