Insanity--Amongst Other Things

When my blade slit your throat
The redness I saw was not your blood
It was a fiery passion
A sinful gaze within your dying eyes
Glazing over as you mocked me

To call a murder an accident
Is cowardice and I knew better
My love for you had wavered
It was not true but
A figment of my imagination

That was made the kill
So much simpler--A lack
Of feelings to cloud my judgment
A lack of sympathy towards my target
I wanted you out of my life

There is no sorrow
There is no truth
There is no regret
That's what I tell myself
Each and every night I lay awake

The past creeps up from behind
Threatens to consume me
One of these days I may just
Give in and then you
Can finally rest in peace

But so long as someone else
Needs me more than you,
My love darling dove
I will not succumb to
Your foolish charms

The taint in my heart is
Irreversible, you know?
And I am weak for it
Different because of it
Never will I be the same
---
Hm. Looks like Boyue has a penchant for bad poetry. I'll make him write more later.

There are no butterflies
No one swoons
Fireworks are meant only for
The 4th of July
So don't fool yourself
Into thinking there should be something more

That childhood crush on your next door neighbor
Haunted you well into middle school
And even high school when you asked
For his yearbook and all you got
In return for a heartfelt message
Was a smeared HAGS

Your heart won't race at every moment
Having to catch your breath simply means
That you were late for a lunch date
And he should understand for
If he doesn't, leave him
You deserve better

One doesn't have to resort to
Pints of ice cream or
Ridiculous soap operas that
Magnify the severity of your situation
Because in reality none of this
Is that big of a deal

Another man lost means another
Chance to find someone
And you won't have to use charm or wit
To seduce the devil
For he should care about you
As you are and nothing less, nothing more

One-month anniversaries make you look
Desperate and a little pathetic
Three-month anniversaries you can skip
Altogether for no one else is keeping track
Last a year and then you'll
Really have something to celebrate about

And when you see the glimmer of
That ring, don't play coy
See it for what it's worth and what it's worth
Then say "yes" before you break his heart
Revenge isn't sweet and neither is
What everyone else makes love out to be

The tender moment won't last
As the years go by
Yet you stand by his side
Because of a spur of the moment promise
A decision to make everything work out
No matter what the sacrifice

These feelings, this complacency
It will feel boring at times
And time may seem to stop
But never take it for granted
Because when your hair starts to gray
He's the only one who will still call you "beautiful"
---
Just because an assassin isn't allowed to love doesn't mean he can't. Methinks Étienne is going to get into trouble one of these days...

"I'm sorry..."

He smiled at me. "Don't be." His smile, not his words, was the last thing I remembered before he died by my hand. In my arms he laid, lifeless. Maestro's orders; he was right, I had no reason to be sorry. So then why couldn't I stop mumbling that I was sorry?

Apologies are useless. My throat was hoarse when the Sweepers came to take him away. They did me no good, did him no good, and before they could dispose of the body, I requested that he be cremated. Refused. Traitors aren't given proper burials.

It was then that I began to realize just how one-sided this whole affair had been. From the first stolen kiss to the last cold embrace, everything had been my choice and never his. And when he'd tried to poison the Maestro... I'd argued that he would never do such a thing. My reasons were invalid, the points I brought up irrelevant. It didn't matter how nice he was to his students or to me; it all could have been a simple act.

A lie. I'd been lied to for over twenty years. I should have felt broken, should have felt torn and upset and hollow. True, at first it felt as though someone had ripped apart my chest. Now, however, my years of discipline had finally kicked in. I regained my senses and realized that he had been just another kill - all a part of the job.

Giselle threw him in a dumpster and left him there to rot. She'd laughed the whole time, their bitter rivalry finally at a close - not because she had turned out better than him, but because I, of all people, had killed him. The irony of it all made her laugh so hard that... that she cried.

The others, they didn't react. They had no reason to. They simply went about their own things, too preoccupied with staying alive to care about one fallen comrade. No, he wasn't one of ours. He was a traitor.

Imagine my relief when the students didn't attend classes for an entire day, mourning for the loss of their favorite teacher. I found their actions to be ridiculously stupid. Heart-warming, even. I finally lost it. I fell to my knees and cried in the middle of class. I gave in; I wanted someone to catch me in my moment of weakness and pass judgment on me as well.

I was useless.
I was gone.
I was dead.

But no. No one ever ended my misery. They let me live. And then I learned--Emotion isn't a weakness. It is power. And from then on, with each and every kill, I'd whisper his name and I could've sworn he was smiling at me.
---
*yawn* I know. It makes no sense. I just wanted to write an angsty!Étienne 'cause I've nothing better to do than to slash my own OCs. Wow. OTL