Alice

A poem about Alice.

It glints and glitters as I dry my hands.

It's always sitting on my finger.

It reminds me of her.

Perfect.

Just like her.

My Ali.

We've been back from our honey moon only a week.

Everything is still soft and goey, and warm.

Comfortable, but terrifying.

Her eyes are like this black iron.

Her hair in perfect ringlets, shinier than the now dry ring.

A buzz knocks me out of my daydream.

She walks up the stairs as I read the chilling words.

She opens the door as i drop my phone.

She hugs me from behind as I try to make my breath move.

She's saying how much she loves me, and only me as I shove her away from me.

Someone else is standing there screaming at her as I reread the text over and over.

Yelling as I try to figure out how this could have happened.

getting quieter, as I get closer to them.

Going silent as I see the pool of blood.

"Alice?"