The Cost of a Quiet Life

A lifetime of quiet resentments,
Paved the way,
To red mist driven,
Steely sharp,
Slashing, slashing madness.

If only she had told someone.
If only she had let it out.
If only he had let her breathe,
Let her believe;
Believed in her,
Just a tiny, tiny bit.

But his overbearing arrogance
Made him a wife full of tiny holes,
Filled full of ire,
A raging soul,
At war with herself,
Behind her perfect, placid smile.

She waits for them now,
To come and take her away,
Quiet and covered in red.

The woman that never compained,
Never murmered,
All in persuit of a quiet life,
That in the end,
Killed him dead,
And took away everything that she had.

Nemo Malus Felix

They said Nemo Malus Felix, 
And I swear to God it's true.
Especially when I think of
All those things
You made me do.


I can't sleep for more than an hour,
Before the nightmares start.
Before every wicked thing
I've done
Is nailed into my heart.


If only I'd told you I wouldn't,
But my lust had sealed my fate.
I was desperate to feel you inside me.
Strange 
That now I only hate.


I know that I shouldn't have killed her
You were evil to tease me that night
And to laugh as her blood flowed around me
You're a devil,
In that she was right.


I know peace does not visit the guilty mind
Every day is a dantean curse
But to know you still live in the world with me, 
That my love, 
That my love,
Would be worse.

Chop Chop

Don't......

Chop. Chop.

He can't see me can he?

No. No. Nonononononno. 

Why has it......

Door. 

Hide.

Small, smaller.

 Not small enough.

Stop please stop please stop. 

I won't tell.

Please.

I. (breathe, breathe)

Won't. (breathe, breathe)

Tell. (breathe)

Don't smile at me like that.

Chop.  

Chop. Chop.

Inheritance

I would not visit this dread place again, but duty drives the carriage in which I quake. Every jarring bend threatens to destroy the fragile calm I strive to portray to these grim, rebuking relatives who surround me; resenting my every breath.

I squirm in this padded discomfort, my clammy white gloves covering even paler skin.

Is it always this way with the passing of one's distant kin?

But I cannot think, the horses shoddy stride distracts me, pounding nails of sweat into my brow.

Soon, too soon, the driver slows and my stomach falls through the soles of my feet.

Gods, can we have arrives so soon?

The creaking door and the shifting of disapproval confirms my fear.

More skittish than the foaming steeds that drove me here I follow, forcing my face towards the monstrous pile before me.

Blackdove Hall.

How I hate this place.

Sixteen huge, blank, dead eyes stare sightlessly back at me from within blackened frames of rotting wood; shrinking me, mocking me.

Despite myself I still stumble up and over the damp, mottled teeth that lead me reluctantly through that gaping mouth, to be swallowed alive.

'Just let your will be straight and true' I pray.

'Leave them everything, they're your blood after all. I don't want your money, I just want to leave.'

But twisted corridors breed twisted minds, and none more twisted than the grimly mocking corpse that dominates this gathering.

This sorry mausoleum belongs to me.

Every sickening grain of dust, every coin, everything.

Choking, I try to flee, but it is too late.

The jealous knife gouges between my ribs, twisting fire into my heart.

Blows rain down upon my head, driving me to the ground, yet I watch my life's blood pass between my fingers with surprising calm. She moves so swiftly, my assassin; all I can see of her is the royal silk of her skirts as the stiletto pricks the last of my life from my breast, and I die.

But now I can see she who killed me; too well I know the green heart that coveted this place.

I see her daily, though her pitiless gaze passes right though me.

Oh, but I have patience.

And desire.

And power.

And I will have her.

When she sleeps.

When she dreams.

I will have her.

I am a black dove to steal her soul.

Sleep well, sister.