I sit here alone,
bathed in this filth.
Her insides stretched across the floor;
swarms of maggots eating their way through.
My hands hold her blood;
it drips down my palms and onto my forearms.
There is no equal color in nature.
Its black red shade and thick sticky consistency makes my mouth water.
Her heart in my lap is as beautiful as her face once was.
Now it lies in the corner atop her limbs,
her heavily used vagina stabbed repeatedly.
If only I could frame it to remember her infidelities,
to remember the searing pain I caused her in those hours,
to remember how she screamed and begged for mercy.