paranoid.

you turn your head.
what are you looking for?
you won't find me, darling.
it's just the wind.
i see you shake at the sound of crunching leaves,
as if i would be so careless, you know this,

it's been months now, your clock ticking down,
you live each day as though it's your last,
so you'll have no regrets when i put you in the ground.

and when i do it tonight, when i finally take what im owed,
when you stare down at my knife, i will pause.
i will soften and melt under you.
and then my blade will hit your bone.

i think you'd love me even then.