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The Killer

He didn’t mind
the blood on his shoes
as he waited for the train.

It was the smell.

And as he crunched the
white flesh of his apple,
He could smell hers.

It made a home in his throat.

He could feel it travel
as he swallowed,
Poisoning him,
Infecting him.

The sweetest of reminders.

Maybe he could go back.
Kiss the girl
who bled out.
Give her life.


She must be gone.

She was so sticky.

He never expected there to
be so much.
It erupted from her,
With every blow.

Stupid, bloody bitch.

She shouldn’t have said it.

This train is late.
And not a bin
in sight.

He kicks the core
on to the tracks and
sees her eyes,
Locked in a scream.

She was beyond terrified.

Where is this fucking train?

The poison sets in his
With realisation.

His hands drip
with sweat,
With her blood
that he washed away.

It will never come off.


He runs to be sick,

And again.

He misses his train.
No matter.

He’ll never escape her,


About GinAndTulips

Gin and Tulips; The home of the frolicking G&T Lovers. Come in, pull up a comfy seat and make yourself at home. And if you like it. Join us.

3 responses »

  1. Beautifully graphic – I love it.


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