It's me.

I move in stealthy quiet of night,
methodically.
I can hear you breathe.

Drawing nearer
I bring my face close
to your's as you sleep.

I watch you
through my disguise
and imagine all the times
I've smiled
while you've made me cringe.

Cold chill stabs air
betraying warmth.
It's personal.

I resent how
you've broken your way
into my head
like a trespassing
dream character

Pent rage breaks loose
like an angry beast
and I slice through the illusion
of my loyalty to you.

Dagger punctures clean,
rips while you dream,
first cut; your throat,
   ...so no one hears you scream.

Next, your heartbeat,
thrusting, pushing,
twisting.
No one is awake.

Warm blood drips
from the knife
on blood-drenched sheets.

Adrenaline tears in while
blood pressure screams like sirens,
and I lose the scene 
wondering what you dreamt...