My Love’s Requiem

I sat brushing my hair in my dark room. Lilium played softly, I swayed with my music. I wondered. I wanted to die a hundred times, a hundred different ways. But I could die once. I stood up, my lacy dress followed me. A black lace dress as black as a night with no moon. My hair, long and black that touched every curve of my body; my face pale as a white cloud. My eyes blue as if they were drowning. I wanted to drown. I walk to my window. Beneath my window was a pool. The water was black; I walked onto the balcony and took a breath, holding it in. I could see myself jumping from that balcony and into the black water. I touched my neck and gasped, I couldn’t breathe. I was feeling death. My vision blurred and I fell back.

I awoke hours later in that spot, my body, drenched in water. I died, but in the event of that death. I was alive. I felt more alive than ever. I wanted to die again. Call me a Sadist and a Masochist against myself. But the feeling was incredible.
I wanted to feel the pain as I bled to death as I felt the agony of drowning. I stood up and walked into my room, my dress torn and soaking wet. I walked to my drawer and pulled out my knife, the knife; it was given to me by my lover. He had killed himself with it.

I held the knife in my hand and stared. I did not move it. But my wrist began to bleed. I bled and bled. I fell.

I awoke again and smiled. I cannot die for good. I looked at my wrist, the blood stained my arm and a gash was there. I smiled more. More, I must feel death. I was becoming addicted. I needed death, to feel death to be alive.

Burn I began, Burn I must! I walked to my oil lamp and threw it at my wall it began to burn and I sat happily in my chair at my vanity, brushing my hair. My dress slowly burnt up as I looked in the mirror. How beautiful I was and how incredible it was to burn. I smiled and let the flames take me.

Three times I died, as I looked in my mirror. I drowned, I bled and I burned. I continued looking in my mirror and I saw my face. Lilium played its last note. And upon my face was black, burnt skin on the outside. And Death stood behind me, I smiled and turned to him. “A fourth,” I asked and he nodded. I smiled and told him I wanted to die ninety-six more times after.



He grinned at me and took my hand. I collapsed. I dreamed, to be beheaded. to just feel the slicing of my skin against that blade. A bloodied, rusty blade. Death smiled at me, knowing what I wanted. I saw myself in the woods, my black dress flowing in the soft winter winds. Lilium clouded the air. I was forced against a tree and I felt a sharp knife forced against my neck and it began sawing through it. I smiled as I bled. And my head fell. It fell to the ground. Smirk and all. My eyes opened as my body picked up my head and placed it atop of my shoulders and tied it back with a ribbon. I smiled hugely and walked towards Death in front of me. “Skin me!” I screamed and threw me onto the ground and began cutting my skin, slicing. I loved the pain. I needed more. He smirked at me and grabbed the dagger I had in my hand and he shoved it deep within my sex. Thrusting harder and deeper, gaining speed every so often. My sex bled. I didn't care what happened to my body. I needed this now, more than ever. I felt myself coming. I bucked my hips and finally passed out. The pain was too much. I came in my slumber. As I rested my body was sliced and stabbed.

I awoke to the amazing pain that was more than I could bear. I called for him. I needed more. And now. I cried out louder. Nothing came. I thought I would die from the need. I had to have it. I needed it now. So badly. I cried. My body beaten and mangled. I begged for the release I needed. I called and cried. A man. He bent down. His glorious face inches from mine. He smiled and kissed me softly. His black, hair in my face. I pulled him down on top on me and kissed him harder. He pressed himself against me and rubbed. I moaned and begged for more. He pulled away. He let a tear fall and pulled the dagger from my bleeding sex and plunged it into his own heart. I cried. I saw it again. My love, kill himself in front of me once again. I realized then. That‘s why I longed for death. Because he had left me without any love. All alone. I, myself a virgin. That’s why he did it, was because I took myself. I died, I died first and left him alone. I caused this pain. My love. I took in my breath and kissed his dead lips. I held his left hand, and with my right. I stabbed myself in my heart. I died on top of his body. My soul awoke like that in a blaze. We were being cremated. I smiled and kissed him. I stayed that way. With my lover. My body cried for him. And his for mine. He breathed my name. I smiled and kissed him again. I breathed his name softly. We met again in purgatory. Our naked souls, forever entwined. For all eternity. Forever, making love. The love we shared. Our love for one another. Our sexes bleeding everyday from constant love. I was happy. The pain I felt when I saw him die would forever be worse than I died. I did die. A thousand times over when he died. There was no time I did die without him. I died because of my bleeding sex. He, a bleeding heart. For me. We bled together. For all eternity. I was finally happy. Happy he caused my sex to bleed.

This was our love story. So gruesome and painful as it may be. But that’s how true love is. Agony and all. I smile as I sit here writing This when my love left. I felt I had died a hundred times over. And even now. Dying every time I see his face. Every time he calls my name. I breathe in deeply. This is love. No matter how you look at it. The daggers in my heart will forever be this strong. For my love is everlasting. Like my father’s in heaven. My God. My creator. That was my gift. And this gift will surly be my last and only Requiem. This, is my Love's Requiem.



Written by Jennifer Catignani for my loving boyfriend, I wrote this about you and I a very long time ago. the second part of it wasn't added until this year. WHAT IT'S LIKE TO KILL YOURSELF PROMPT.