I took in your eyes, your delicious eyes,

As our fingers intertwined.

I could drink them in as I stared.

But, because I knew your eyes,
I
knew
how
you
loved.

I could see the love in your eyes slowly
Dying.
A flame being suffocated, strangled,
Until it whispered a final stream of smoke.

The love grew old piece by piece,
Bits of it decaying and falling off until there was
Nothing.

I took in your eyes,
Your weeping eyes, the life in them pouring out,
And I could not savor them anymore.
They were stuck as I stared.
Unwilling.

I did slowly take in your eyes,
Though they were flat. 
Tired.
Loveless.

I took my anger, my constant anger,
And balled it up, intertwined in a web of words,
And threw it across the room.

And, again, I took my anger
Except this time
it wasn’t the words that I threw.

Suddenly there were scarred knuckles on your face
And what followed was a crimson flower
That bloomed next to your lonely eyes.

And you cried and you cried,
Diamond tears carving your face,
And I only knew one thing then:
I
Liked
This
Power.

And so the next day
You looked at me with those

Painfully.
Flat.
Eyes.

And you held that knife so surely.
So. Sharply.

But you were so slow, so humorously slow,
As I took the knife, that beautiful knife
From your shaking hands, you staring at me with those eyes.
 

Your eyes that were once my reason to live, but now killed me everyday.

Your eyes that were once peppered with color, but now streaked with sharp black.

Your eyes that were once shining with love, but now were filled with hate.
And how clearly I saw that hate in your eyes.

Your.

Blatantly.

Flat.

Eyes.

I took a lot of things in that second,
that day,
that year,
that life we had spent together.
But,
I never thought I would take your

Life.