I’m sleepy, I’m creepy, and a little uneasy. My hand is on the trigger, not at all ready to deliver.
Fingers itching, thoughts reaching, face reeking, lips speaking, screams shrieking - while bullets are speeding.
My lover is no longer pleading as his life is bleeding. His lover’s kneeling.
Her cries are pleasing -words not so convincing.
Gun - not at all misleading.
Dreams are ending, and death is winning.
Her blood is spilling, as her tears are seeping.
His betrayal was deceiving.
His lover thought it was so easy.
But my gun had a better reasoning.
Blood spraying - so velvet red and warm - so disdain, yet true.
“Oh, my, what have I done?”
(Written 10/26/2011. What was happening in my life, that I wrote such an interesting story.)
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