My frail mind,
lost in a thought,
of something else,
somewhere other than here,
not this darkness,
not soaked in your blood,
a time where you smiled,
when you saw me,
how we craved each other,
setting our sins ablaze,
burning the world together,
but then you changed,
you became someone else,
and it hurt knowing that one day,
I’d have to rip out your throat,
my special one,
how we’ve come undone.
SlasherMonster Magazine 
Thanks for submitting your poem, Matthew! I look forward to reading more poems or stories.
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It’s always tragic when a lover’s heart gets broken and their throat slashed. I enjoyed your twisted poem so much! 💔🔪
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What’s worse…a broken heart or a torn throat?
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Hmm I’d say it depends on how fast you want to die. A broken heart keeps you lingering, but the pain is excruciating. A slashed throat is a quick death.
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Ehhh…I’ll take the long way around — the trip will be more enjoyable!
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That was a fun piece to write, we’ve all had our hearts broken, our partners change, plans change, the world leave us in the dirt, cradling our victims as their blood soaks…. Oh, wait, that’s just a joke, really, I didn’t mean that last part!
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Never hold your victims too close! Or you risk getting blood on your clothes. Nasty.
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Or just hold your victims while not wearing any clothes. Naked and bloody are perfectly acceptable.
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Is that blood on your face, or are you just happy to see me?
–FlyTrapMan–
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Oh, I’m always happy to see you. It’s not the blood on my face that should worry you. Look much lower at the blood on my…….. elbows. Ha! I have very sharp elbows.
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I’ma love my turn to live and love you, MY big manster. And I’ll try to not rile your inner beast. To die at your hands would haunt me forever cause I know it would haunt you. Smooch. Goodnight.
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