This is my first shot at poetry. I don't do poetry often because I know I'm far better at writing novels. But I did write it, for some strange reason. Well, be my guest to review it, I suppose.
Even now I imagine your face,
Sneering as you walked through that door.
I smelt the poison on your breath,
I smell it forevermore.
You leant in over me
With a bottle in one hand,
A knife in the other,
And you laughed like a lunatic.
I questioned you, but there was no answer.
You had no regard for how I felt;
I knew what was about to occur.
If I had screamed, would you have stopped?
If I begged and pleaded,
To show any mercy,
Would you have stopped?
The question still plagues my nightmares.
If I had run, would you have chased,
Me through till the end?
Would it have just infuriated you,
Bubbled the rage inside of you,
To melting point?
None of this matters, not anymore.
What’s done is done,
Despite my regrets,
Despite how I feel
I’ve won.
I couldn’t take it anymore.
It felt giddy to plunge that knife,
Inside that cold heart of yours,
I relished that feeling of content
As you spasmed to the floor.
I had to suffer the consequences,
I had to suffer punishment,
I had the opportunity to take your life,
For you ruined all of mine.
It has great imagery, and has a good flow,