Now isn't this nice...

If you think that my blood on your hands will make it easier, then you are mistaken.
You can clean them and wash them and dry them till you skin starts to come off, but the dark spots shall remain, pulsating with memories. Beneath your nails, bits and pieces of my skin will hide, waiting to be discovered. Perhaps even a hair strand or two that somehow made their way to you. But you’ll keep them well now, won’t you? Yes, you’ll take good care of them; make sure that they are looked after. And one afternoon, with the sun gleaming on your shiny face, you’ll step outside on to the patio and stand barefoot next to the lilies. You’ll gaze at them with such tenderness, with such love, and be filled with all the hope in the world. And as you collect your ever-so-profound thoughts, my blood will start flowing down from the petals and pool around your feet, seeping up to your face until it blinds you.