All the dictionaries in the world cannot compete with you, seeking out words and beading them together. A worded garland that you gently place around my heart with a gut wrenching smile playing across your lips. And you keep it up as the garland coils itself around my heart; minute by minute inhaling becoming harder. Until I cannot breathe at all for my heart is choking. I can hear her scream for help but the ambulance sirens never announce their arrival. Even my hands can’t rescue her for they trace your smiling face as you tug on the garland and twist it at a dangerous angle.
I could have sworn I heard something crack within me. But I remained frozen, unable to help myself. Your eyes are brown and they hold the right amount of magic and the promise of more and I cannot look away. I am crying as my heart heaves her dying wishes.
But something happens in the moment right before she flutters to a stop. There is a new garland. New beads. New words. New dictionaries to compete with. These words don’t make me cry. They don’t lie to me. They make me want to feel the wind on my face. And when I close my eyes and re-open them, I see that you are gone. I wish I could feel loss but all I feel is relief.
Because the words you minced were dipped in poison and dark magic. They were designed to chop the life out of souls. My heart was their prisoner and your rivals held the key.
I am happy that you are gone. That I shall never have to look upon your face or your horrifying smile. I am happy that my heart is safe from yours. And miles away from your cruel words.
But it is sad, is it not?
That of all the shades of a dictionary, we pick the worst.