When we met
I tied a ribbon around your wrist.
It was grey, silken, and new,
a gift I promised from me to you.
Each day you smiled at me,
you began to weave a tie of your own -
A shoe lace tie,
layers and layers,
laced through time,
intertwined with trust,
and budding love.
You tied it around my wrist,
The day you first proclaimed, "embrace me",
and I did.
I held you close,
I held you long,
cherishing how you felt against me.
While I held you, you looked into my eyes
with a question of your own,
and I nodded- yes, I accept it.
I accepted you tying yourself to me.
The tie became a rope,
the day I saved your life -
the first of many many times,
I fought the demon inside yourself.
The ribbon wasn't enough
to bring you close to me,
to pull you from the edge.
I tied the rope to keep you safe,
Knotting into its fibers,
the shield of the love
I have for you.
But somehow our safety,
forgot how to be strong enough to last.
The sky clouded, and colors dimmed,
and the rope became a chain,
a cold metal biding between you and I.
We yelled painful words then,
bridging the gap between us
with bitter accusations of who among us
had been the one to make the chain.
And as we fought,
Razor blades sprouted from the chain
Like twisted metal flowers
Along a the vine of chains,
Glinting.
Your eyes mirrored the glinting of our buds,
as a shadow crossed your face.
You plucked one of those blossoms,
a haunted expression on your face,
a fascination, a sense of glee.
You dragged it across your wrist,
slicing at the chains cuffing you,
frenzied and frantic,
sawing metal, sawing skin.
I screamed and lunged towards you,
grabbing at the razor in your grip.
You saw me then,
Fast sweeping motions
offensive and defensive
again and again.
I fell to my knees bleeding,
not a concession to the pain,
but an agony deeper -
the shock that you would turn a blade on me.
I sobbed then,
salt water and blood,
my tears.
You didn't look at me again,
returning to your mission,
your crusade,
locking yourself inside the sawing.
Blood poured,
carnage mingled with metal shards
sparks of friction all around you.
I can't breathe.
In the growing blur
Of oxygen deprivation
I see it,
Another way to break this bond,
You have grown so much to hate.
With trembling hands I grab the chain,
And pull a length taught between my arms.
Razor blades pointing inward,
I rake it across me,
once,
twice for good measure.
I welcome the collapsing backward
thudding into a pool of red.
The chain flickers and disappears,
with all its blossoms following after.
It is gone.
They are gone.
I am gone.
You are standing over me,
cloaked in emotions,
I can no longer read,
staring at my left hand
clutching in the rigger of death,
a tattered, bloodly ribbon.
