Double Homicide Poem by Glen Martin Fitch

The cops will find
two bodies on the floor.
The stabbed one
took awhile to die,
the other's flesh still warm.
They won't know why
both killers snuck out
through a different door.
If I must kill you
let me pick the way.
Perhaps pour lies and bile
in your ears or
drown you in a tub
of spit and tears,
inject resentment's gall
for quick decay.  
It's sad when love dies
one heart at a time.
The love you had for me
you won't revive.
In spite of all your hate
mine's still alive.
I guess I must reciprocate your crime.
It hurts.
You won't look back
and you feel fine.
Since yours is dead
I'll have to murder mine.