No One Understands

My hands are like canvases for the blood of my enemies

It spills like waterfalls into the sink

the red splattering on my fishnet tights

staining my pale, vampire-like skin.

His memory burns like a hot iron in my mind

and stabs like a cleaver in my chest.

My high-heeled boots are blacker

than the mark on my heart

so dark, so dark, so dark.

The dark crowds me

covers me

strangles me like my studded leather choker.

I look in the mirror

but only a black hole stares back,

almost as black as the smokey eyeshadow I had on.

My heart is shattering into shards of glass

like broken wine glasses

on the floor of the kitchen

leaving crimson puddles

that form pieces of a broken heart.