A Butcher

Image by Roland Steinmann from Pixabay

You forced her to alter her molecules.
One after another. Every single day.

Aligning her the way you pleased.
Manufacturing a new her. For you.

And then. You abandoned her.
You said – “You’ve changed”.

There was no weapon found.
Nor a corpse by the end.

Yet you’re a murderer.
A Butcher rather.

For you managed to slaughter a soul.
An identity. An entire existence.

And didn’t even care about
The pieces thereafter.

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