Untitled no.2

It takes a certain kind of wrong

to murder someone

to destroy me, crush me 

down to crumbs, to pulp

you left me bare

and took away my 

precious light, you 

kept me in the darkness

no thought of the wrong

not a spec of remorse 

you murdered me

you took away who I am

you ripped me, limb from limb

memory from memory

you set them on fire

threw them to the flames

and watched them turn black

to ashes that were nothing

but a mess to clean up 

Author's Note

.