Springtime

The storm rages outside. I hear the patter of rain on the window, yet it does nothing to console me. I hear the door open and he walks in to find me sitting on the floor with my back against the couch. He climbs on and settles down behind me. "Do you wanna talk about it?", he asks me. When I don't respond he lets out a small sigh. He slips his fingers into my hair and starts to sing. We sit there till the rain stops. 'What did I ever do to deserve him?', I think.

I let out a laugh, not recognising the bitter voice I spoke with.

"You lied. You lied and you lied and you lied, and I believed every word."

He stays still. Indecipherable.

"Go on then. Slit my throat. Let me bleed out and die. Kill me."

His hand doesn't waver. Was it really just a lie? Did none of it mean anything?

I notice him staring ahead, avoiding my eyes.

"What are you looking at?", I snarled at him, failing to fill my voice with hatred.

His voice was soft, softer than I had ever heard.

"Do you remember that song? Our song?"

That's when I realised what his eyes were focused on. Countless times he sat with me on that couch. He sat there and told me he loved me. He sang to me and told me he loved me. It was all just a lie.

You fill up my senses, like a night in the forest, like the mountains in springtime, like a walk in the rain

I scream, but not a sound comes out. I kick and thrash but my legs don't move. He sings, but there are no remnants of the man I chose to love.

I feel the knife cut deeper. I feel the blood flowing. I can still hear him singing.

Come let me love you, let me give my life to you, let me drown in your laughter, let me die in your arms.