Poem

Chapter 1

....

I saw,
Though you refused to,
The blood on his hands,
The knife in his bag.
You pretend,
Not to notice these things.
Don't judge a book by it's cover,
You said.
Now you're dead.
And I am too.
Why did you stop?
You didn't have to.
He killed you first,
Slit your throat.
The blood went everywhere,
Red against the white floor.
Gushing.
I tried to help.
Tried to scream.
But it was too late.
You were dead.
Then I felt the metal of the knife,
Cold against my neck.
The pain past,
And I fell into darkness.
Nothingness.
Because he had a knife.
Because you didn't see.
Didn't I tell you?
Love kills slowly.

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