She leans over him
so close she can
still smell her milk
on his breath.
Inhaling deeply, she parts
the shroud of silence
that separates them
Is love an emotion
or a choice?
She hears her mother’s voice in her mind,
the words cracking her bones
letting her know the aching heartbreak is real.
He’ll grow up one day and leave you
Doesn’t seem to matter that her mother
has been dead all the years
since she has been born, died in childbirth.
She struggles to stand
slides to the floor & the blade
glints in her hand,
the truth of what she has come for
slices through the night.
But the loneliness suffocates
She is tired of singing the blues
as if though it were her birthright
When she hears the key slide
in the front door, she knows it must be done
quickly. That love is a choice.
and she must make it.
The knife almost glides across
the curve of his neck. She expects to
have to stifle his screams as the blood seeps
into the pillow lying beneath his head
But one deep exhale is all that comes.
Then the sound of her lover’s voice
She smiles to herself knowing
he will be proud of her for what
she has done and that he will
finally allow her to know love.
Peace & Love,