holding my favourite knife,
he told me to cut pomegranate for which
he hates the seeds but still consumed them to show me how he'd do 𝑎𝑛𝑦𝑡ℎ𝑖𝑛𝑔 𝑓𝑜𝑟 𝑚𝑒.

even though I dislike the how the juice of its seeds reminds me of blood,
yet I cut it for him to show him how I'd do 𝑎𝑛𝑦𝑡ℎ𝑖𝑛𝑔 𝑓𝑜𝑟 ℎ𝑖𝑚.

the same knife that I used to cut pomegranate
for him, now
he's using it to cut my 𝒇𝒍𝒆𝒔𝒉, whilst my body
laying lifeless on the bedroom floor.
the crimson of pomegranate seeds flowing from my 𝒄𝒉𝒆𝒔𝒕,

I remember
he didn't like the musty smell of pomegranate that I cut for him. I wonder,
if the smell of my rotting flesh disgusts him even more.

- 𝑡𝑎𝑛𝑣𝑖
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