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Perfect Crime.
How can he sleep sound tonight?
Red stains the floor as he turns out the light.
He tosses and turns, imagining the caress of her finger,
his cry unimaginable as he knows that her face will still linger.
How can he dig her grave in his yard?
Carrying her body as the rain falls, no holds barred;
her lips pale and lifeless, he strays for a moment..
The memory of her taste is nothing shy of torment.
How can he shovel the dirt with her blood on his hands?
No farewell after she’s buried, but only he’ll understand..
The droplets kiss his skin as he runs from the crime,
and with the slam of a door, he gives himself away to a high.
How did he stain the innocence of her smile?
He dances in fog, knowing he can keep her away for a while.
All can be fine and elated, but when he inhales the cold and lonely air,
he meets the longing for her heart and falls in despair.
Go on and ask her how could she still love such a boy..
she’ll grin and say, “Walking on glass has never been such a joy.”
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