you gotta get outi slept in the woods last nightwith no coat and missing shoes;i made my bed in the snow,buried my face against the ice,and felt nothing.skin sinking to pale blues with every hour,(a faded variety against the colourless drapery called my complexion).my veins crackled and snapped, icicles forming inside.numb to the bone and core as i was the day you left.staring into a dead sky, past fusain tree limbs,the sound of something corporate seemed to take to the passing wind.its pounding piano and cutting wordsshould have stung like the frostbite,but instead swept me unconscious.but i am Kristie not Konstantine,and you spell konfusion with a J..and? i don't like it.asleep on the forest floor,lifeless as you'd left me,still as the day i watched you go.though we'd stood motionless in the kitchenand went nowhere at all;you had left.the you inside you had;you let it go, fled, gave it up.gave me up.you canceled all our reservationsbut forgot to tell m
you told me the truththe truth i made you promise to tell me.the truth i wasn't ready to hear...never expected to hear.you claim it was a mistake:confused, a cluttered mind and stress pervading your thoughts;betrayal, fear and a guarded heart that froze you..well i was freezingwhen i walked outside in twenty degrees at three in the morninga place to clear my heada street to turn teardrops into ice slopes on chafed cheeksa pavement my feet couldn't feel beneath me because no feeling existed in my bodylike the clawing at my arm that burned in four red linescarved from the same fingernails you fell in love with the night before for scratching your back.[funny how i used the phrase 'in love' just now when it's the basis of my scribble here now.]but like that burning on my forearmi watched you light a stove to fiery flames, searing hot -- to sanitize a knife.why sterilize something you want to use to inflict pain on yourself i wondered?and why am i standing here witnessing it in youwhen
the church of what's happenedin my seat in the sanctuarywith virgin white light cascading over my arms like a spotlight on my presence,i feel my skin about to burn a hole right through the pew--my ring about to eat the very flesh and bone from my finger.as the congregation turns to watch acidic tears erode canyons in my cheeksthey know that i'm the girl who tainted their Sundaywhen i touched foot in the doorway with my crimson sins,staining all before me that'd once been holy.in horror and shame i sit with my head in my hands,curled upon my knees,praying for redemption--and know there's no girl who deserves it less.i promised with my life,and i broke my vow.the congregation's gaze upon me,mocking as i lie there rocking;invisible whispers of, 'we told you not to...you naïve, filthy, disgraceful little girl.'