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Half Eaten: A Poem With An Ending That Isn't Exactly Happy

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    Delicate Snowflake

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 The taste of your flesh,

 Holds me to the bed,

 I feel as if I should know,

 Why everything is so dead.

 If in fact I killed them all,

 Bring me to my accusers,

 So I may show my true face,

 And erase the abusers.


 In this you are given power,

 Still part of this is inside of me,

 When you thought I fell,

 I ripped a page from memory.

 As we part in the field,

 I still have half of you here,

 Trust not in the betrayer,

  Hiding under sheets is not facing fear.


  Curse the sky in desperation,

  This blade is homemade,

   Breaking the skin,

   Until all you are is a shade,

   You used to be a rainbow,

   Shimmering after a stormy night,

   We are colorless,

   Love is not our right.

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