The heavy black curtain falls down, sealing out the light, holding in the screams. Mouth full of cotton, mind full of blood...how to spit it out in a crimson rain? The sun doesn't shine here. The smile on my face is a shield over the things I'm thinking. Tender flesh beneath me. 'Yes dear, I can kiss you there'...A knife on the headboard involves my mind. The vessel of this body is just a tool, rather like the knife, or gun, or any other thing to be used. I could pick it up and draw it quickly across his tender throat. Look at him watch me smile. He thinks it's about him. Heh, if he only knew. I can picture the look in his eyes as the knife comes down. Wide eyes asking me how? but I thought...? I wonder how fast death would come. Would he have time to realize he never thought? As death dimmed the question in those eyes, would the answer FINALLY come? Would I wonder about it as I sat in a cell asking ghosts if they ever learn the truth?

"Hey" He touches my chin, pulling my face towards him, trying to read it. I fake another smile, letting the focus return to this world. "What are thinking about?"

You don't want to know, really..."You." I say.

SMT 1998


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