As my skin captures rays from the sun,

I start thinking about what went down.

The way he hit her and how they both liked it,

The way she started to pale as crimson stained his hair.

Why the brawl even started was silly.

True love between two individuals like them was unique.

If he was sick she would make him chicken soup.

When she made a mistake he was right there beside her, helping clean it up.

The one mistake they couldn't clean up together was their mariage.

Both had problems with the other,and neither wanted to change.

That's why on their first anniversary blood was spilled.

She shot him with the gun he gave her for her birthday.

It took 3 shots to finally kill him.

She didn't want to clean up his body, so she buried it on the beach.

He was a pain in the ass, I should know.

I was his wife.