Crime Scenes

I often confused the word love

With caution-

They sounded the same to me

and I learned early on

That broken hearts are a crime scene,

That as long as they didn’t leave fingerprints

They could get away with murder.

And truth be told,

I think I’d prefer that,

As long as you leave the blood-splatter

Like a mural on the side of a building,

Leave my skin white against the pavement. 

At least if I’m an organ donor,

Things could be painless for someone else.

Every time you said “I love you”

I thought about calling 911

I thought about all the warning signs-

The night you picked me up while I was crying,

The kiss we shared by the apple tree,

The way you looked at me when I didn’t run away,

The time you tucked me into bed when I drank half a handle of vodka and told you about the time my mother tried to hit me.

I should’ve known you were just 

Falling 

Ten stories down a skyscraper building 

To tell me you loved me 

I should’ve seen the bright yellow tape,

The chalk outlines.

I wasn’t careful enough,

(I should’ve run away)

I wasn’t scared enough

(Maybe I wanted to stay)

I didn’t care this time

If I ended up with a crime scene heart,

If my arteries were inked with your name,

If I fell ten stories right next to you.

We weren’t a story of caution

Or a story of love

We were the story of a criminal,

One who never ran.

Comments

chasingviridian

oh wow i love the whole metaphor of crime scene hearts and you've got so many good phrases oh my like 'arteries inked w your name' and the organ donor part. i feel like it's really accurate but such a unique take on it, massive high five to you for such a beautiful piece. <3

Kirstenpoulos

thank you thank you!! 

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