A lovestory

Last night I ended an angel.

She always wore what I wanted her to wear. She would toss her hair just the way I liked it. Her walk was enough to make me temporarily lose my mind. Her nails were always perfectly done, I required that of her. Her smile was sweet, but it was I who always got the sweetest. I adored her. She of course knew this, but she never said a word. She would just glance at me the certain way. Sometimes I would touch her, and she would coyly lean away from me. Then she would look at me, glance at me again...

Then one day she grew cold. She had made a new friend, whom she thought better than me. He was tanned like a common worker, not pale and aristocratic like myself. She would whisper him secrets she never told me, I saw her whispering, I saw, I did... Oh she would whisper, and they would laugh, enamoured, in the sun, and they would leave me sulking in the alley, in the shadows... She wouldn't glance at me anymore.

I went to her. I just wanted to know. She looked at me like she didn't even know me, even when I had loved her for so long. I didn't really mean to hurt her. I didn't hurt her. No, I didn't. She went away. But what she left behind... The slender limbs and the shiny hair and the bright eyes... They weren't bright anymore. But I didn't hurt her. I just wanted to know. Why did she leave me so sudden? I would've given my life for her. And now she's...

Here's my soul. Take mine. Take it. You can have it.