When I find the girl who murdered me

I am going to dig my sharpened nails into her cheek

I am going to make her bleed

I am going to reach forward with my fangs

And I am going to pause before her neck.

She will raise the knife in self-defense

So I will cling to her shoulder

And I will weep.

When I find the girl who murdered me

I am going to pry open her body to find what makes her heart beat

And I am going to lose my nerve. 

She will raise the gun to my head

And she will cradle me and—

It will look like we are lovers… the way we stare—

But she will murder me again. 

When I find the girl who murdered me

I am going to bring a basket

I am going to say, “This is for the memories

for you to keep and for me to forget.”

She will bring out the poison

but

I am going to ask her

“This time,

please just carve out my heart,

put it in the basket,

turn it into a clock.”

And she will force the poison down my throat.