Wednesday, March 16, 2011


The knife cries out to me..

“Take revenge!”
The gun shouts,

“Show them who’s boss!”

My fists sing, with
uninhibited glee,

“We’re free!”

So there is one thing
that I wish that
I could be.

I wish I could
be you right now;
the victum of my rage
I wish I could have sympathy
for the pain I feel.
My knife cuts deep
you see; deep inside
this mystery.
I wish I could
feel the torment
and then kiss
it goodbye
so easily...
like a gunshot
wound to the thigh.

That is nothing.

Your gun blows
away the dreams
that no one can replace.
 why is
there terror on
your face?
It warrants
pity from the ones
who do not know
your guilt.

My knuckles are
cracked and bleeding
and bandaged by
the careless man
who decided to
believe you.

I wish I could
be you right now,
recovering from
the pain.

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