This poem is about what it feels like, as an author, to love a character but be unable to write them into your story.
I have to kill you, my darling
No matter how much I don’t want to
No matter that I love you
As if you were flesh and blood
I wish I could share you with the world
Share your smile
Share your voice
Share whatever love might be within your soul
And yet you sit there on the chopping block
Me looming over you
With my finger on the “delete” button
And tears welling in my eyes
I have to kill you, my darling
You don’t deserve this
I know you don’t
I hate knowing
That I am your murderer
But I cannot write you
Into a masterpiece
I cannot squeeze you into the pages
Of a book you were never meant to be in
I searched with a hopeful heart
For space for one more character
And soaked my manuscript with tears
When I realized that there is none
How I wish there was
I have to kill you, my darling
You’ll never know what you mean to me
Never know the sad feeling that washed over me
When I realized I couldn’t keep you
There will be other names
Other faces, too
But they won’t be yours
They won’t touch my soul the way you do
And it’s with a heavy heart
That I play my part as the executioner of the fictional
And swing my axe at your head
Goodbye, my darling