CRIME SCENE

For a moment you were my safe place
I existed more as myself
Than ever before in your gaze
I allowed you access to my secret places…
Sealed windows and locked doors
A house that had been boarded up for ions

From the moment of connect
The first repeated glances
The conception of the bond
That seemed so new yet so ancient, eternal

Opened myself wide and I loved you
Opened myself wide and I trusted you
Opened myself wide and I gave to you all that I possessed
Though you never thought it much
All I asked was that you didn’t touch…

And I let you hold the little girl inside of me
Let you know the woman whom I longed to be
The woman I would be: could be again…
With love and time

Let you hold her hand, and walk you into places
That had long since held up no trespassing signs
Barred by yellow tape
Covered with chalk outlines
Tracing the figure of the many reinvented and deceased
Versions of the girl who once lived
Inside of the woman you claimed to see with such clarity

She thought that you had come to investigate the scene
Solve the case and bring her safely home
Or at least into that safe place that you had so briefly become

But you were only there out of curiosity
To tamper with the evidence
To leave prints on the few places that weren’t already soiled
Reopening wounds, peeling scabs
Ripping apart the many scars left by your many predecessors
Power tripping off of the taste of all of that fresh blood
Rejecting all the remnants of herself, which she gave with all her heart
And you ran away, leaving just slowly enough to leave yet another footprint
On her soul


Even then I adored you
Because I SAW you, really SAW you
Like I see you now

And I cried…
I cried for all that would not be
And for the girl who used to be me
And for all the times that she had died before
And so what would it matter
If she died once more

Then I closed all the windows
Locked all the doors
And boarded up the house
Put up a “going out of business sale” sign and waited
Held a final clearance sale and waited
Hoping that maybe on sale
You’d see she had some worth
Like an abandoned building that with restoration
Can sell for twice the buying price
Like a cheap antique at a garage sale
Once polished and cared for, surprisingly holds great value
Like that good old classic and cliché diamond in the rough…

I held up my sign…and waited
Going…going…gone…
Sold to the highest bidder
But no one came to my sale
No one was there
No one at all
Not even me

And one last time, we died, she and I
But this time
No crime scene
No yellow tape
No chalk outlines
No ghosts, no investigation, no rescue attempts,
No point, since there was clearly no worth

And absolutely NO fucking trespassing

Just a sign which clearly reads for anyone who becomes too curious:
“Closed For Business”
And an empty space to symbolize all that ever was,
And all that will never be…


– Copyright © AnOmali™ —