Beware, The Water

“You should know by now, really.
That this could end, really.
You should know I could never make it work (wake up)
It's pretend. . . really
There, do you like the way the water tastes
Like gunfire, and you knew but, you could never say”

I don’t know what to say anymore to you Mam. I’ve tried everything. I’ve tried to understand your situation, tried to keep an open mind, tried empathy, sym pathy and even thought maybe being on a plane of self-righteous indignation. Still I achieve nothing. I gave you everything you wanted, all you ever needed, everything you asked me for but still was not enough. I just can’t help you.

I love you, with everything I feel, every sight I see, every thought in my mind, every scent, every breath. I love you, with words, with touch, with action. I love you, but I cannot feel if you love me. I can’t see your every need. I can’t see or know what you feel.

I know you support me, you help me with the little things, the money, the care, but you cannot speak the words I want to hear. You cannot say what it all means to you, what I mean. And when you do, it feels like it’s because I asked. Mam, what do I have to do to show you?

I’m broken Mam. I cannot feel anything anymore, because now, I don’t know if I love you. I don’t feel you anymore. You’re too quiet, too still. We made our pact, our silence was not a part of it. This dark ritual I know embrace has nothing to do with you, but it is because of you. These screams that surround me now are all your fault. The blood running down the walls into neat little sinks, pooling into the central bowl so that I may use it later; all for you. It’s your fault. You made me do this, because I am too weak to do anything by myself. I never was smart enough. Now I’m doing this because of you. You should be happy.

You should smile, because of all of this effort I’ve put in for you. You should be proud at what you’ve created. You should laugh. Stop crying, stop screaming you stupid bitch. You should be happy. Look, there’s your father, yes that’s him. He doesn’t look like much, but that’s what he looks like when his rib cage is turned into wings. He is now immortal, a work of art. There’s your mother, I used her entrails to decorate her hair, looks better than that unkempt mess she used to have doesn’t it? There’s Michael, that bastard who tried to force himself on you. Doesn’t look like much, but that’s because you’re looking at him from the wrong angle. Let me move you here, that’s right, see he’s been twisted backwards, kissing his own arse… HA! You like it? Ha ha ha!

Now you, you’re the central piece. You’re going to be an angel. I’m going to lift you up, above the world, give you wings. I’m gonna use what’s left over of the rest of them, and make you real. I’m not taking anything away from you, I’m giving you more. More than I could ever give you. I’m giving you eternity.

I love you, Remember that, more than anything.