Forgotten Remorse

Dripping all over the floor
Making a spotted trail
Down the hallway
Tear drops
Mixing and making
A salty bloody mess
All through the house
The blood stops trailing
A puddle having formed
A wonderfully beautiful mixture
Of bloody tears
Collected under the body
The blood seeps through the floor
Dripping into the lower part
Of the three-story building
A scream echos from the kitchen
Following up the stairs to my room
Where I dangle meaninglessly
All life gone from my body
Footsteps herd their way up the stairs
Running down the hallway
Past the bathroom
The drops of blood on the carpet
Ozzes between toes
As the feet patter
Towards my room
Ten people stand there
Watching from the doorway
As one person only
Walks to the middle
Their arms suddenly grasping me
In a close embrace
Though no life is in the bodily vessel
That only moments ago was myself
Tears fall from the deep blue eyes
That once seemed so full of life
Mere hours later
After my bloody has drenched
The carpet below my feet
Passing through
And onto the kitchen floor
Sirens sound throughout the neighborhood
Making a bee line for my home
As the cops make their way upstairs
They see five people still at the doorway
One officer motions
And they scramble downstairs
Paramedics enter the room
They see me dangling there
Lifelessly hanging from the ceiling
Barbed wire around my neck
With a knife in my stomach
Two razors in my wrists and ankles
While the person who’d embraced me
Still clings to my now cold body
Dead and already becoming stiff
With rigor mortis
A week later
My funeral
Only three people show
He who held me for the last moments
That I’ll forever remember in death
The officer who shooed away
Those that gawked at my dead form
The unprepared paramedic
Who went into shock after looking
Upon my mutilated form
Forever it will burn
Within their minds
Every time they blink
Or when they sleep
The sight of my pearl white skin
Dangling from my bones


7 thoughts on “Forgotten Remorse

  1. *expletive* (because nothing is appropriate)
    That was so wretchedly dark that my stomach actually twisted. If you were wanting a reaction that’s what mine was. Your poems have been so morbid. I don’t know if that’s how they always are, and forgive me if that’s the case, but I’m wondering if you’re ok? If there’s anything I can do to help? Just concerned.

    Liked by 1 person

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