by Mr Rhee
The day is gray, and I am bored.
I close my eyes, and inhale slowly,
But this does not soothe me.
I hear you make a sound.
There, from where you sit,
Tied to the chair.
I raise my glass to my lips.
The wine is sweet and full,
And it eases the pain in my throat.
Your muffled voice, beckons.
Tears begin to roll down your cheeks,
And you pull against the ropes.
The chair creeks, here and there.
You push and pull and strain,
but you will not get out.
Dull light creeps past the curtains.
The polished blade barely gleams,
but the sharpness of the edge shines.
The wine in my glass is gone.
I lay the glass down on the table,
And pick up the new knife.
The edge slides across the wood.
It sings its metal song,
And it makes my skin tingle wonderfully.
Your throat lets loose a whimper.
You shut your eyes so you won't see,
But you can't plug your ears.
My shoes slide across the floor.
The sound echoes across the room,
So you know I'm coming.
My hand is in your hair.
I pull your head back,
And you try to scream.
It's time to pay for what you did.
You made me bleed so much,
And you make me bleed now.
I kiss your eyes and taste the salt.
I pull the gag from your mouth,
So I can hear you cry.
Your eyes open and seek mine again.
I will let you see my anger,
Now, before I let you go.
I kiss your lips and taste blood.
Your whimpers are music to my ears,
And your breath is foul.
I put the knife point to your neck.
The blade ready to cut and tear,
And put an end to your begging.
You made me cry, my love.
And I will cry again, my love.
And I will, at last, be rid of you...my love.
Submission date : 2009-10-08
Last edit : 2009-10-16
Visits : 722
Votes : 6
Rating : 4.7
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