His Downfall

There is blood and broken skin

under my fingernails

and a single thread

from the collar of his shirt

from when I dragged

him down with me.

 

This wasn’t just going to be

my fall

from grace,

their eyes.

It would be his destruction

his death.

 

“Angel”

His angel did all

but kill him.

 

When the porcelain princess

shatters,

there are scars on palms

and tell tale shards

and splatters on the carpet.

 

There are always consequences.

And there is always blood.

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10 Replies to “His Downfall”

  1. Wow.You possess a talent for writing about the darkness in humans.Loved it. The title is apt .The poem uniquely you.

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