this is what's left unsaid.

this is what i want to do to you.

push your hair back,

black as the keys you loved

so

so

much-

(this says something

about me but i

don't know-

don't want

to know what)


open up your skull and look into your

cruel

systematic

mind-

(it fascinates me how easily it's broken mine)


i want to break

every

single

precious little finger

at every single joint and

press your useless hands into the ivory keys

(hard)


i want to suffocate you with piano wire

beat you bloody with hate

and slip a

knife

between your ribs

into your unfeeling heart

(does it beat on tempo?)


i'll play a melody with your screams

and compose a symphony

on a canvas of skin

and write poems with

your blood as ink

(and maybe,

just

maybe,


i'll taste your last breath.)