Crimson

 Broken glass litters the floor
music plays in the background
and the lights are turned low,
pictures and letters
overcome the plush, brown carpet
she barely knew she had,
a glass of everclear
and liquid drano in her hand,
decapitated photos of her ex-man,
slowly she draws the knife
across her gentle, soft flesh
she likes to watch the crimson flow
over his face like a mockery
as if he were the one hurting her,
without hesitation
she swallows the contents of the cup,
her throat burns and her eyes water
still she is fixated
on the tiny crimson waterfall,
the liquid concoction
is now taking its toll
overpowering her senses
until at last the final drop falls,
and she chokes
on her own sad life.