Savior.

 

 

In a moment of

perfect desperation,
I clung to the master's neck and

crushed my fingers about it as

hard as was my intent to
be free of him.

"In me, you shall die."
I say cooly, calmly,

almost under my breath,

but he hears this and I

watch as he resists and
twitches beneath my

fevered, agile hands,
and as violently as he

strives to live,
is as violently as I

steal his life from him.

 

The master is no more.

His hold on me, broken,

snuffed out by my own

will to exist without him.

 

Oh yes, I say, the master

is no more.

 

His clammy grip shall never

taste the sweet flesh of my

wrists again.

 

His fiery eyes shall burn no

spots on my crucified body,

tethering me to his side,

for I am free of love and yes

 

the master is-no-more.

Reviews

[TL Boehm]

wow. a hint of the macabre - a somber - dark write.... almost frightening but strong. And I feel empathy for the 'murderer' - as tho' reading about an act of self defense. well done. Thanks to Dawn for sending it to me

[Nicole (Carpe Diem)]

dark, amazing writing...

[Dawn Jones]

I LOVE IT!!! I LOVE YOU!!!!