She threatened to take her life
claiming that if she couldn’t live it with me,
she’d give it to the edge of a knife.
If my hands couldn’t rest in hers
then the blood from her slit wrists
would keep her hands occupied.
If living meant living without me
then it would be better if she died.

She would cry her eyes out every single night,
in hopes that her tears would somehow reignite,
the flame between us that once brought her delight.

Tshiamo told me that the edge of a razor blade
cutting through her skin felt like
the reassuring graze of my fingertips.
The tight grip of a noose around her neck
filled her with ecstasy because it felt
like the warm, hard kisses from my lips.
She said the pills helped resurrect the butterflies
that came to life whenever I had my hands on her hips.
She once said to me, “My blood spills on the floor
with beautiful montages of what used to be every time it drips.”

She was willing to give her life for a boy
who could never comprehend what it meant to be a man.
A boy who would look at a queen and only ever see
a curvaceous body, supple breasts and a one-night stand.
She fell in love with a heartless liar, cheater and manipulator.
A monster that hides behind silence
to keep his infernal truths from being heard.
A hellish fiend whose lust for ruin and heartache
could never be cured.

This is the story of HBK and how he became,
the guy you see every day but don’t know in any way.
I made her fall victim to every cliche I knew how to play
only to watch her walk the distance
but not even bothering to meet her halfway.
She believed everything I would say
and that only made her trust easier to betray.
Little did she know that loving me came with a price to pay,
And when the time came to collect what was due,
I took the only joy in her life away.

She spent the next year breaking down to pieces.
Crumbling away with no hope of finding out what peace is.
While I heedlessly spat in the face
of her threats and demands.
I lived my best life, foolishly unaware
that I held her life in my hands.

It still haunts me every day
and every night I lay awake.
Traumatised by the horrors
of watching my first “heartbreak”.
Even though I pretend to not care,
I still hold onto her pain.
And ironically breaking more hearts
is the only thing that keeps me sane.
I go from girl to girl, hoping
that someday I’ll forget her name
I fill my soul with darkness
because my subconscious
can’t deal with the sight of my shame

Like a green snake that slithers in grass,
I’m a fiend that lurks in plain sight.
I come closer, wrap myself around you and deceive you
then before you know it I bite.

I do it because I think it will somehow
make the memories disappear.
But I still feel like I’m drowning
in all the tears she cried.
I’m a slave to the guilt from the times
when I was never sincere.
I’m slowly losing this battle
against the regret I hide inside.
Maybe I should’ve given her the love
she always hoped I would provide.

Wherever she may be I hope she’s still alive.
I hope she pulled herself together and she survived.
Because if she’s resting in peace and I’m the reason why.
please tell her family that I am the guy …
The guy who pushed their daughter over the edge.
I’m the reason why they dug
every foot she lays under the ground.
Tell her family I’m the reason why
their only daughter is no longer around.
And tell the whole world the story of
HBK and how he became
the Heartbreak Kid and a murderer …