- All Nonfiction
- Bullying
- Books
- Academic
- Author Interviews
- Celebrity interviews
- College Articles
- College Essays
- Educator of the Year
- Heroes
- Interviews
- Memoir
- Personal Experience
- Sports
- Travel & Culture
- All Opinions
- Bullying
- Current Events / Politics
- Discrimination
- Drugs / Alcohol / Smoking
- Entertainment / Celebrities
- Environment
- Love / Relationships
- Movies / Music / TV
- Pop Culture / Trends
- School / College
- Social Issues / Civics
- Spirituality / Religion
- Sports / Hobbies
- All Hot Topics
- Bullying
- Community Service
- Environment
- Health
- Letters to the Editor
- Pride & Prejudice
- What Matters
- Back
- Summer Guide
- Program Links
- Program Reviews
- Back
- College Guide
- College Links
- College Reviews
- College Essays
- College Articles
- Back
Serial
You killed it, dead. These seams are slit
 Like gossamer throats; they owed you what
 Could never be repaid. 
 Mirror blood-lit. A jacket's life-lights fade
 Into whirled buttons on the carpet-down.
 The window broken,
 shatters stain the town.
 
 Alarm-clock's steady ticks, quicken,
 Die as heartbeats did, today
 A skirt torn from her mother's grey
 Pulled out an orphan; charcoal smears
 Best case are frenzied-murder-tears;
 Worst case, her shaken blazon skin
 Is scattered with what came within
 And is now without. One night -
 Singular, brunette-like haze
 Of kisses, fire, her, rebel, craze
 Struggling to meet your gaze
 "I'll kill something, one of these days..."
 
 On that count, and the others,
 you were right.
 
 And in the corner lies a heap
 Of glitters dulled and magic past
 I yell, a whisper cuts me down.
 "i promise this will be the last"
 Wings soar past through pouring rain
 You've gone straight through the gaping pane
 
 That dress we bought in Faraway -
 When the breeze could steal a breath -
 And all of you was riversong -
 And when you smiled the thought of death 
 Was scorched through with the smile -
 So electric, beguile - alive
 
 But dead. Bye. The dress, it gasps
 Through silken, ruined lungs, it screams
 Hung through twisted wires, blue
 Has now been drawn and quartered too.
 
 Does it, now, still hold your scent?
 I dread to question my intent
 A roomful's blood the cost I've spent for the
 Answer - murmured, soft. "Repent."
 
 (This peace just seems so...violent.)

Similar Articles
JOIN THE DISCUSSION
This article has 3 comments.
