Poem reflective of a woman's bitter struggle in the dating realm. |
How to use his gun I clicked my heels together, I followed the yellow brick road All the way to Kansas, where he lived, now our humble abode We had been communicating, for a year at the time I decided to go What would've happened if I had stayed behind, I guess I never will know So, I bid farewell to my friends and mother and brother who stayed, I packed my things, and, like a gypsy, was gone in no more than a day He's the only man that hath the power to move me in such a dramatic way, And after I'd met him I knew that there was no way I could possibly stay I unpacked my things, nabbed a job, and opened a bank account But soon realized, too late, why I should've listened to my feelings of doubt As I lie there motionless, body bruised, worn, and unable to move I thought about the coming day, and what it would be wise to do It was the first time, and last time, he would hit me or bruise me in anyway It was the first time, and last time, he would ever convince me to stay In hiding it he should've found a better hiding place, Because I found it, whilst cleaning, one cold, lonely, winter day I found it, and took it, knowing he would never know Because I acted as though my passive self would never go, I used it because I had promised myself, long, long ago That if he ever came at me in anger again, to him I would show That I had learned and been taught well how to use his gun In teaching me he'd taught me well, for he had been the one To show me how to lock and load that powerful device Now I knew, and know it well, that only death would suffice Because death was the only thing that would keep him from hurting me again, And I had realized long ago that he was a lover, but not a friend And I used it well, I find, as a means to an end In a relationship that really never should've had the chance to begin For I had seen the signs early on, when the red flags should've pegged fear But all those flags were torn down any time he called me near, For just the feeling of being wanted was enough to keep me there, And being alone was hardly something I could think to bear So, I clicked my heels together, I followed the yellow brick road I grabbed the gun, pointed, and started to lock and load And in that moment, I knew, this was the first time, and last time, his body would house life This was the first time, and last time, his doings would ever cut me like a knife I pulled the trigger, and watched the blood drain from himself, I ran over, covered his mouth so that he may not yell for help And, on the coldest of cold winter nights, I think back to those ugly days and ugly nights, When he would hold me hostage in a place far away From my mother and my brother who had chose to stay, And I am happy with them now, as I chose to return To my home, which was with them, as I now had learned I would never let a man treat me like that in future years, I would never let a man lead me to so many tears, I would never let a good man go, nor let a bad man run Because that one had taught me well how to use his gun |