blood on your hands

Love is watching someone die.
Is love blood on your hands, too?
I have to kill everything now.
Music, movies, pictures, restaurants, movies
I must kill the largest part of myself
And soon.
It must die
It must be done
So that I never see it,
So that you can never reach it
So that she can’t ever hear it cry.
So that i won’t ever change my mind


Hands and lips and tears and laughter
All of it pulled from the black recesses
Of where my heart was
Before it died and was destroyed,
All of it must be plucked
And pulverized
And then set on fire

Teach me how.

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