January 18, 2014
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The vase slams to the hardwood floor,
Shattered glass lies there, silent and broken
Rose petals swiftly flutter to the ground, lovely and elegant
Once alive and flourishing and ebullient
Now crushed, and dead, and bruised
I remember that first night, how gentle and tender your hands were as they caressed my body
Now your fist is marked and blood swarms your fingers
The blood, crimson and ruby
Identical to the quiet liquid that seeps down from my forehead
I can feel my tears gathering, as the black rivers glide from my eyelids
Your bloody grasp tightens on my wrist and I can feel myself breaking
The clock that we bought together when we first moved in has never been so loud
The breathtaking silence and burning atmosphere is almost tangible
That’s when I felt your violent swing across my face and I hit the floor, breakable
Little by little, I lose focus, until it’s over with; everything turns ink black, what a starless night.
In that moment, as I lie in shattered glass, and dead rose petals, surrounded by warm red, I realize that he was never going to love me as you did.

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