Murder on a Sunday Morning

Me feeling bad on a Sunday after my parents pretty much told me i had no reason to be and wanted to kill them and me

“Take a breath”

 

I tell him

 

It could be your last

 

Pray

 

To your imaginary friend

 

Fall on your knees

 

Like the coward you are

 

I hold the gun

 

To his head

 

Stroking

 

The trigger

 

Eager

 

To see him die

 

He begs

 

He pleads

 

I smile

 

As I squeeze the trigger

 

The man is gone

 

Forever

 

The man who abused me by

 

His hands

 

His belt

 

His words

 

I cried

 

He yelled

 

***

Her turn

 

She is unafraid

 

But still she

 

Prays

 

To her imaginary friend

 

On her knees

 

But not out cowardice

 

She brought me here

 

They brought me here

 

But still I squeeze

 

The trigger

 

Proud

 

That I shall hurt

 

No more

 

They hurt me

 

Every day

 

But the pain lingers

 

I hold the gun

 

To my head

 

I hear the sirens

 

They are coming

 

“Double homicide and

 

Suicide with no note.”

 

I squeeze the trigger

 

But never feel a thing

Reviews

[Chelsea]

This is so powerful yet it makes me feel sorry and guilty. Yet, thank you for this poem. its like I am in your place. Your def in my subscription box!