Love's Massacre

It won't be easy to love me;
it will be a massacre.


You will have the gun
and I will give you the bullets.


You will have the blade,
and I will run into it.


You will kill me everyday
in ways you won't even know.


The blood splatter
will be everywhere.


My heart cracked open
like a shell casing.


But there will be beauty
in the slaughtering.


A pattern of love in how
the blood drips from my chest.


Even if I die a little each day,
I hope it's at the end of your knife.

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