I got you, hook, line, and sinker. Fuck the bait, you’re not getting anything out of this. And just like that, almost on cue, the door opens and I see the edges of your silhouette trembling against the hardwood floor, and I realize that even God couldn’t clean up the blood storm I’m about to invoke.

Ever wonder what your reflection in a blade looks like up close? Ha-ha. Curiosity crucified the cat.

So I slash.

And cut.

And hack.

And mince.

And lacerate.

And dissect.

And shear.

And snip, split, scissor, pierce, lop, rip open, reap, and tear apart.

I slice

then I dice

and even julienne chop.

And now, I’m not the sad clown anymore, I’m just sad. But at least this time it’s your blood that I’m drowning in.

Such a mess we’ve made and you’re only the accomplice.