Victim of a John Doe

Do you want to hear the story
of how I died?
I promise it won't be boring
so if you would
just take a seat, have a drink
and listen.

Past memories reach,
I met the most amazing man
who spun words of silver and gold
with a tongue more fine than silk.

He told me he could do no wrong
and I, young and foolish, believed him.

And when we went home,
his eyes shining with new excitement,
things were perfect.

Then it shattered.

Nothing more intense
than feeling my own blood
trickle down my body.

Cruciation
stares traveling down
blood spattered knife
a gaping wound

cries of shock
gleaming white smile
solid drops of blood
and fading light.

I knew him for one night
he disappeared the next.

To this day I am simply known
as the victim of a John Doe.