crimson question pt. 1

crying crimson never scared her;
she was doing it for you.
and those snow white scars on ghostly arms
drew no fear either.
everything was always for you.

but why did she lie awake at night,
crying to her heart?
maybe because it was the only other one
broken, scarred and harmed.

it was relief each morning to wake.
taken away from those screaming, heavy nightmares.
that searing pain as she tried,
to stitch his heart to her side.
and her clothes still lay on the floor,
but they mean nothing to him anymore.

but why does that wedding dress still hang in her closet?
torn and frayed, age eating it day by day.
but why does her smile screen bullets for you?
why? after all that you put her through.
why? anthrax and tear gas, too, when nothing…
is more than you do?

and she still cries, locked away in her gloom.
darkness being all that she’s faithful too.
so tell me, oh, answer me this:
how did you break her, with one little kiss?

why is her heartbeat throbbing for you?
why? your lies so real they were true.
why? when that wedding dress is made
from the blood that she’s shed.
why don’t you just kill her, handgun to the head?
oh wait, you metaphorically did.