Open Arms

As soon as he boarded the train, it struck him.
He stood in the aisle staring,
I like to think it was in my direction
with those heavenly eyes, he's the perfect victim.

I saved this bullet for that man,
I'd be happy when any essence of me
became lodged in his fickle heart.
I wasn't surprised when it killed him.

No mortal could survive the wrath of my obsession,
my association as the deliverer of death.
I'm sure he figured out as his corpse collapsed,
this life is wonderful, but the end is beautiful.

I planned this out last night,
when he told me he was leaving,
headed any dreadful place but this one.
He said he couldn't sleep holding red hands.

I couldn't live with him, and I couldn't live without him.
I convinced myself he didn't exist,
my delusions made fiction into pure fact.
This human was a figment of my imagination.

I sat in the seat closest to the door,
I waited only for him with bloody, open arms.
The gun shook when I finally released the bullet,
and as soon as he boarded the train, it struck him.

Author's Note

We auctioned off lines in class, the assignment was to write a poem based upon the one we received.
I got my teachers, so credit to him for the first line of this.
I hope I didn't disappoint him with the rest of it.