homicide

sometimes, i have an urge

to ruin the best things in my life.

it comes like an impulse i can’t shake.

i think about taking this love in my chest

and watching it die slowly.

i itch to suffocate this lovely flame

in weak pale palms that should be stained

with blood and yet they remain

clean.

only by sheer force of will because

i know what lives under my skin

and it is barely restrained.

this power to kill what love i have will someday

spit in my face and choke the life from me.

and then it will reach for the person next to me.