I think of your soft, alabaster skin and my lips tingle. The way that you tasted, the way that you shivered each time I touched you. Our moments together were a happy dream, something I will treasure forever, long beyond my final breath. Each time I get a whiff of Spring I recall your floral perfume; a signature scent that makes me groan to think of.
We were to be together for eternity: that was my promise to you.
But they found you, eventually. I must have gotten sloppy and careless, your presence gifting me with a feeling of unwarranted overconfidence that we could never be discovered. You made me carefree, and that was our undoing. Naturally, they frowned upon what I was doing with you, they did not share our open-mindedness. One man’s “joy” is something that twelve men consider a “crime,” I suppose.
And for this so-called act of depravity, the judge punished me harshly.
I must admit, though, it was hardly a surprise. I couldn’t help but smile back then, just as I cannot control the smile forming on my lips now. Thinking of you always makes me happy.
Your family is there, hatred oozing from them, as it does from your friends, even strangers, who never got to know you, show me dislike. No one knows you as I do. No one ever will.
The rope fits around my neck, it feels like that scarf you wore on the day I made you mine. It is tight, but I like it tight. It makes me feel like dancing.
I jolt and shake and see images of you in your most vulnerable state.
In my final moment, I beam my brightest smile. For now, I can keep that promise I made to you. I will find you in the afterlife and eternity shall be ours.
I shall see you soon, I promise our love need not end. You shall be mine, forever.
You are mine, you belong to me, and thoughts of you make me smile as I dance.
My breath quickens and then is no more.
