Shall I Tell You
Shall I tell you a story of the time I found love? Shall I tell you who broke my heart— An angel, a demon; a blessed mix of the two. A soul akin to my own, draped in sunny blonde hair, Red lips like summer evening strawberries, And eyes made for sinking and falling.
Shall I tell you how she struck without warning?
Shall I tell you how the ghost of her faded— Without a note on the wall, or the air; (I forget which is meant to come first.)
Shall I tell you how it tore me apart, And left me with nothing? Shall I tell you how the scraps were picked clean by scavengers— Vultures I once called family?
Shall I tell you how their conniving, deceptive, Lying, cheating, stealing ways Had designed precisely these moments— Like architects of my undoing?
Shall I tell you how they feared the monster, Long before they created it?
Shall I tell you how silence became my only reply?
Shall I tell you what I became after the wreckage— How the justice I sought began seeking me, too, As if reality bent its will In the face of tears dropped in silence?
Shall I tell you of the reckoning that is coming? Or would you rather just believe I stayed broken?
