Even In Death Poem by Ace Of Black Hearts

The gentle blood beating dripping wet.
So slowly.
So deeply.
So intentionally.
So chronically.
Spastic, and yet emphatic.
Inebriated and erratic.
To the left, to the right.
Which way are you going?
As if knowing will make a difference.
Maybe in appearances.
A dressed up scene to disguise.
To play a trick on one eyes.
Such a fickle thing.
One moment the light is flickering.
The next your gone.
An empty vessel, and the final message delivered.
It sends shivers up and down my spine.
It echos our decline.
Stagnant, a still puddle of water breeds nothing but disease.
A note folded up with the perfect crease.
That was always your way.
Your signature written right underneath.
I pictured this so differently.
How funny, how quickly you were took from me.
With an explanation point it was cast like a ghosts ultimate fright.
A knoose tied out of a hemp rope.
A razor blade still sitting on the kitchen sink.
I can still see your last smile of delight.
Sickening, is the very last thread lay to bare.
To protect sometimes one must give up everything.
And with the grabbing of the crown of jewels with there final screams of despair.
The stool kicked out from underneath your feet, as the blood shoots across the far side of the room.
If I only would have been there.
For some reason it I can't breath, the lungs stop pumping in and out.
And as I'm laying on the ice cold floor, there is light flashed back and forth between my eyes.
I'm asked if I'm alright.
I think he is a paramedic or something
How so are the words in the back of mind.
As if it isn't bad enough I have to lie about grief felt.
For I can't afford to be locked up in some hospital for seventy two hour evaluation.
Time is already wasting, with you gone.
I can't make up for the past.
One to many disasters.
The voices go off in my head faster and faster.
Arguing over what you really meant to me.
As if I separated from my own body I'm listening in on a strangers conversation.
I don't know these men, they can't be me.
Too cold, too calculating.
So jaded, please say that wasn't part of me.
Oh how I know you did this so intentionally.
Trying to bring me back together with my family.
Nothing you do is without purpose.
Baiting the trap, waiting to see what you catch.
Manipulating even upon your death.
The confession just leaves everything even in more question.
The strangest love I felt was for you, with almost a tiny taste of hate.
Every move you made was to agitate, instigate, creating such a web of entanglement.
I was caught, yet I wanted I didn't want to ever be free.
Only upon a financial break did I finally realize what you doing me.
Empowering ever more me to never again walk through that door.
If seeing is believing, what a sight.
I can't believe you got so dressed up to die.
You know how wrong it is to have me come out visit if you are going this.
The only reason I came was because you said you had the divorce papers ready and waiting.
What a way to celebrate.
Gives a whole new meaning to till death does you part.
You set table for one, as if you expected me to dine upon this night.
You really thought I now I hated you.
And maybe when separated I did, but now it is more of feeling of indifference.
I've become long numb to your antics and mind games.
You know the distance has done great things.
At least except for this.
Boy, is your family going to pissed.
Ironically I'm the one they are going to blame.
Even it has been over two years since we seen each other.
You took the house, and car.
I didn't put up a fight, for I just wanted you out of my life.
Now I truly have that I guess.
But in a way that just makes me depressed.
Cheers to another of your successes.