Killing In The Name Of Love

By: Tyler Ross

I killed again.

I took another human soul and buried it

beyond the hopeless

world between love and death.

Does such a world exist

or have I been misled to believe?

There is a lagging and leeching feeling

of importance to me

to not hurt another,

but I have

and then,

I was left

with this

a year and a half

later…

“Loving you was

the most

exquisite form

of self

destruction.”

I killed her,

broke her spirit,

and there is

nothing I can do.

So I sit and wonder.

Will she ever recover

that sense of self again?

I loved.

She loved harder.

She fought.
I fought.

She fought harder.

We argued.

Day in, day out.

I couldn’t breathe.

Maybe it was me?

Maybe it was more her?

Now, I can’t tell the difference.

Today.

She has a cat.

She has her family.

She has her friends.

She has medication,

but she doesn’t seem okay.

Still to this day.

Is it not right to reflect on your past?

We were friends.

We loved.

We grew.

We shared our lives.

But all is left is this overwhelming feeling

of loss and pain and

destruction.

One day one of us will die first

and that’s it.

Will she be okay?

I can only fucking hope.

It’s pretty brutal how living with this

pain,

slowly killing me,
and crushing me for killing

to where I feel the cycle of

‘what goes around, comes around’

is striking me down,

down into the ground.

I killed again.
And I feel eternally punished.

I’m sorry

I killed

in the name of love.
I’m sorry I couldn’t be

the beautiful person you saw in me.

I wish I could take away your pain.

Abby was her name.