I want you to know that I didn’t type a single word of this.
Every sentence fell off of my tongue and fell through the doors that are my lips.
Lips that have stayed sealed for the protection of myself and others.
A tongue that has solved many problems that challenged us.
I’ve been purging myself of all the hurt.
Driven by pride and grief,
I have made myself some sort of Frankenstein, trying to revive the part of me that I let you murder.
So I want you to listen… to the next person you give your heart to, I will add them to the bodies.
I wish I was sane enough to call that a metaphor.
I wish I was being playful, like kids with toy swords and guns.
But this is real.
Use this as a confession on any trial your heart may desire it to.
Because I’m guilty.
“yes your honor I did it indeed”
And I’d do it again.
Because your love is worth it. Because mine wasn’t.
So instead of playing victim, I become suspect.
Accused of all the crimes in my innocence, I now settle in the freedom of criminality.
I can’t make it better. I don’t want to.
So visit me if you must. Call me if you want with the same energy you profiled me with.
If they sentenced me to death, the motto has been the same:
“If my heaven is denied, I’ll gladly accept my hell.”
Because if they sent me to life, the message stays unchanged.
I want him dead.
I want it all.
To go.