sane

my fingers will do nothing more

but curl themselves into claws

and your name—a snarl on my lips—

your words were crafted carefully

and—razor-tipped arrows—struck

you never missed

but the novocaine numbed the wounds

until it—suddenly—ran its course

my world was full—all searing pain—

and through that agony

came blinding clarity—

painted in red

and with blazing eyes and fingers

contorted into barbed hooks—

i scanned the aftermath for you

and found you—

reveling in the debris of my sanity—

and—gentle—

i murdered your memory—