Friday, March 26, 2010
The future full of promise, full of hope – lies bleeding on the floor – a corpse.
The betrayer of our future glints in my hand, the knife that has cut me adrift from all that might have been.
It was so sudden, so quick. I took the knife to the bread. We argued, as we often did. One glare too many, one sharp tongue that drew a sharper sword. One slash that cut more than a slice of home-bake. And the knife now held neither crumb nor butter, but blood.
All that was is gone.
All that could have been is gone.
Lost in an instant.