Song = This by Ed Sheeran
It was wrong.
It was forbidden.
It was downright sinful.
But I was in love, in love with him.
The way he would ramble in that damn Newfoundland accent.
Speaking of aliens and monsters.
Of Pharaohs and curses.
Of beasts lurking in the depths of the ocean...
When it finally happened, I was so happy.
My ecstasy unparalleled.
The pure joy as he filled me.
He knew it was wrong,
Hell, even I knew that much.
He didn't want to at first...
His cheeks were red when I first touched my lips to his,
His spluttering made my heart skip a beat.
He talked about what the Bible said,
What the laws said.
And I didn't care.
I placed my hands either side of his adorable blushing face and yet again placed my lips over his incredibly soft ones, and he responded,
Kissing me with just as much force...
Hands tracing each other's sides we fell onto the bed, and lost ourselves within each other...
But that was all over now. A single tear falls from my eye and lands on my arm, mingling with the blood lying there.
His face afterwards had held so much hatred,
For himself,
And for me.
I had ruined him.
Defied the laws we tried so hard to uphold.
He ran out, and just carried on running.
Pulling up his pants as he went.
The stupid, stupid man.
God, how I loved him.
The cool blade in my hand, cutting through my previously unblemished skin like butter.
I need to feel the pain I made him feel.
Cuts criss-crossing along my skin.
As long as he was gone, I need to be punished.
He hadn't even heard the car that knocked him down.
His head cracking open on the sidewalk.
Red and grey.
Red and grey.
It isn't enough.
He is dead because of me,
And this isn't enough.
They wanted to know,
Who he slept with.
Said they wouldn't be punished.
So I left a note.
A note that soon enough won't be just a confession anymore.
Not enough,
Never enough.
So,
With one last look at his gravestone,
I am slashing through the veins on my wrist.
Letting the blood fall to the ground.
Allowing it to mingle with his soil.
I am blacking out,
And, as my last words I say,
"I'm sorry."
But I know it will never be enough.
Henry Higgins
1872-1901
He loved too much, and died in the arms of his best friend,
And lover.