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Rated: E · Poetry · Death · #1190321
Dark Poetry
The First  Born Must Die

I can see it.
Feel it.
My heart lingers in his hand
I don't know who he is,
Or why he holds my heart.
I stare at my heart.
It's still beating.
It beats as he squeezes it,
It stops when it explodes in his grasp.
I hear myself breathe sharply
The pain is searing through me.
My eyes shut to control myself,
To help me not to scream.
He laughs,
He laughs at me.
I open my eyes to look at him,
I stare
At his hand
Where he holds
A new beating heart.
A new heart that is mine.
He is holding my heart,
Again.
He sneers at me
As he holds up
His other hand.
The hand.
The hand that holds scissors.
I can't take my eyes away.
I stare as he opens the scissors
And closes them,
On my heart.
I scream in pain.
Heat pours onto me.
I wipe my forehead with my hand,
I see liquid on my fingertips.
Blood,
My blood,
My heart's blood.
He closes the scissors again.
The process repeats
It repeats until I am covered in blood
And my heart
Is in pieces at my feet.
Tears stream from my eyes,
Mingling with my blood,
Washing it away.
Then it all disappears.
The blood is gone.
He is holding another heart,
What will he do now?
A table appears next to him.
On that table,
That mysterious table,
Is a beaker filled with liquid.
I can smell its smell.
Alcohol.
He holds my heart above the beaker
As he stares
Right at my eyes.
My heart beats once.
He drops my heart into the solution.
The pure evil solution.
All my muscles tense.
My skin gets tight on my body.
I start to shrivel
Until my skin can't take the strain
And it breaks
Stretching and snapping,
Letting blood flow out of the tears
In my skin.
I scream,
Once more,
And then
Again,
It's all gone.
He holds a new heart
And holds,
In his other hand,
Five knives.
As soon as my eyes catch his other hand
I am tied back
To a wall
With holes,
Five holes,
Near my arms,
Legs,
And head.
He stabs my heart with one knife,
A wooden stake gets shoved
Shoved through a hole
And my left leg falls off.
Then I close my eyes,
Grit my teeth,
Think that it will all be over
Soon.
Soon.
Ages later,
It's gone.
My legs,
Arms,
Head,
All back.
He has a new heart.
He takes it in both hands
And rips it right down the middle.
I scream the worst I've ever,
As all my tendons
And muscles
Snap
With a noise
Noise like fireworks.
Then, one last time,
It's all gone.
I look at the man.
How will he hurt me now?
I lower my head and notice,
In his other hand,
My soul.
I close my eyes.
I don't want to watch myself die.
© Copyright 2006 icechick (icechick104 at Writing.Com). All rights reserved.
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