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Crimson roses lay on the silk bed sheets

next to a letter

covered with blood,

you sadi your final good byes.



You said you didn't want

to live without me anymore.



I sat on the edge of the bed and cried,

I went to the bathroom

to wipe my mascara filled face,

and found you lying on the floor.



You had cut your throat

with a meat cleaver from the kitchen.



I sat on the floor

next to your dead body,

I put your blood soaked head,

in my lap.



The crimson roses lie

on the silk bed sheets....

untouched.



Copyright Cynthia Jones

Apr.28/2004