I kneel by the windowsill,
As tears pool around my feet,
I run my hand through the still,
Unmoving corpse draped in a sheet.
My locks of hair are hacked,
Like a sea of choppy waves,
For in the confidence I lacked,
I let my loving misbehave.
I did it with a shard of glass,
As I felt his hands tug on
My flowing locks that shine like brass,
With a swipe then he was gone.

I’ve flung myself across the bed,
My face is caked with tears,
The sheet are stained with ink he bled,
His eyes glassy, full of fears.
The corrugated steel is cracked,
From the windows a wind billows in,
The balcony where we held our famous act,
Overwhelmed me with sin.
He came to me in the night,
Speaking of sweet nothings,
Perhaps he may have died of fright,
As the steel came down crushing.

I mournfully sink into the sea,
I hold him in my arms,
My fins are drooping dismally,
He stares back in alarm.
No more sound he makes,
His face is washed in blue,
How his heart must ache,
To think this love was true.
I called to him with an outspread hand,
With my siren call,
I dragged him deep away from land,
For sweet nothings aren’t good enough for me.