PostPoems Be Artistic. Be Creative. Be Inspired!

It was dark and stormy. Scary weather that followed my mood. Pathetic fallacy I know but the time had come where the act was destined. I walk into the kitchen, grab the knife and started chopping. Swing, Hack, Dice, Chop. I have always dreaded carving raw meat. Who would have thought that I would be here, now , covering up this dreadful crime. There! Now I throw all the pieces in the pot and boil the flesh off the bones. Next step, bury all the incriminating evidence. No one will ever know I am a murderer if there is no evidence to prove it. I look down at my hands, my stomach churns at the sight of blood. How will I ever sleep again with blood on my hands? My God what have I done! I have literally cut my best friend in a million pieces. I cannot stand this anymore. The blood is everywhere. I do not deserve to live after the horror I have inflicted. *Grable the knife* Oh cruel and hopeless world how can you betray me like this. *Slits wrists.* Who knew dying would feel like this. The next morning discovery was made of the girl dead on the floor, with a pile of beef on the table next to her.