Carpet Scene | Teen Ink

Carpet Scene MAG

By Anonymous

   Screams ring

from inside the

delicate sphere,

blood spatters on

maliciously smiling

walls, witnessing my

humiliation.

Was I not good

enough for you?

The neighbors roll

their eyes and say

nothing to no one,

because involvement

would seem like interference.

What is good when no one

hears the cries?

Piteously whimpering

from the pain in body

that shows no

physical evidence.

If good was all it is necessary

to be, the heart would not bleed.

Broken bones, scattered across

the beautiful raspberry carpet I

chose on graduation.

Bones of my heart, my

life, my existence

crushed to mere powder

on fibers 1/4" thick.

Will goodness ever

become reality?

Eyes still rolling

across that parapet

we laid when hope was

still alive.

Eyes will stare you

down, recognizing

the guilt I could never

admit, until I could

not deny.

Nails, those beautiful

nails I always adored,

scattered off beyond

recognition, as though

they had taken on the

characteristics of the dreams

I used to know,

before I met evil.

Goodness , what is, was

could it be?

Bitter tears shed, still

shimmering on the marble

counter-top where you cracked

my head, forcing my

mind into utter oblivion.

You always said I cared

too much for

my own good.

I thought you'd

never raise your

hand in vengeance.

I was only

trying to help!

I'm sorry,

I'm sorry,

I'm sorry ...

I can't be who you

want, I cannot

fulfill all your dreams.

Your dreams always took

precedence, even when

this living heartbeat,

disembodied from the

figure that was never

perfect enough to

please you.

Please, let go of my

heart now ...

you' ve killed me,

isn't that enough?

Must you cause

the me-that-used-to-be

to perish, too?



Please ....





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