A Rose and A Thorn

Scarlet on ivory, dark on light,

A stark contrast, like my will and yours.

Tension crackles, the silence bites,

Two forces pulling, one always implores.

But I’ve always been the one who bends,

The one who gives, though I pretend

That I have control, some strength to wield,

When really, it's your game, your battlefield.

Red over your skin,

Crimson and pale,

Faded petals and broken hearts,

Left all is what it once was.

Except now, there's no going back.

Every word unspoken leaves a crack,

And I can feel them all, slowly breaking,

As you stand above me, hands shaking.

It splatters and spreads, colouring your skin.

On you, there is the blood of kin.

Oh, not the wall you’ve built up around me, the façade you show,

But the one covering you, to keep your red down low.

I see through it now, the mask you wear,

The hatred in your eyes, raw and bare.

It’s always been there, lurking deep,

Waiting for the moment you'd finally leap.

Your fingers curl around the metal.

In your hand, it seems more lethal.

The streaked skin glowing alight,

As you stare down at me in your delight.

You’ve waited so long, so long for this.

You were sick of it, sick of me being his.

Your hand slides up my throat, gripping my chin,

As the knife digs deeper, coated with sin.

I can feel it now, the pressure, the sting,

The weight of every cruel little thing

You never said but always meant,

Every moment, twisted and bent.

"Good night, my dear," you say with a smile,

As the last thread snips off, right before my eyes.

The world blurs, the edges fade,

But even now, in this final shade,I

see it all—your triumph, your glee,

The way you wanted me to see

That in the end, it was never about us.

It was always about you.

About your trust in your own madness, your own control,

As you stand above, watching me fold.