The Catch That Was Never Caught

All that remained was the picture you painted with my plasma,
a monument to your lustful rage,
raining across the once sparkling kitchen floor,
falling into place,
forming macabre memories that you’ll run to the end of the earth to escape.
My existence echoes around an almost empty room,
ghost of a girl past,
gazing at you with glassy eyes,
their colour disappearing as I finally escape your grasp.
You unpack my insides,
dancing to the demands of your ariose axe,
remarking, with some snark,
that I have never looked more beautiful.

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