Saturday, June 02, 2007

Love Eviscerated

When I killed you, I didn’t cry.

I just looked down, at your head
listless, your hair wiry, your eyes
_____I just looked down
with a semblance of pity, or
perhaps regret.
_____It wasn’t everyday
that I got to love this much.

When I killed you, a lop-sided smirk
dawned on my face, a smile
that was almost tender.

I didn’t look back
to see if you’re done.
I just assumed the best,
which never happens.

And now I find you’re very well
and alive.
There are worse things in life,
I imagine.
But the nightmare never ends,
out of boredom.

You'll get it in the mail
and it will be old and stale
and delicately fragrant,
and mildly haunting.
Like a piece of the cross,
arcane, and blood-soaked,
and generally irrelevant.

Such is our story,
mostly myth.


katy said...

i love this dear. i don't know why... it's got a horror root in it somewhere. i guess it scares me a little... which i don't think a poem has ever done.

creepy and dissapointed at the same time.

i wonder what feelings you're feeling and where this came from...

arch.memory said...

Yes, that certainly was the intent here, to be creepy. So in that regard, I'm glad to read it scared you a little.
This is actually based on a short story I wrote a few years ago, before I got into writing poetry. I had come across the story recently and reread it and felt the need to rework it into a poem. So it's not a very typical working process for me!