deepundergroundpoetry.com
That fateful night
The prickle of the neck
The sweating of the skin
The mind was not in check
The gun was heavy in my hand
She had not a defender
She had a broken soul
She had never chose this moment
This was not her goal
The intruder grabbed her wrist
Told her shut her fucking mouth
Held her against the wall
His putrid hands were going south
The clock was ticking loudly
I was still unseen
Darkness heavy in the room
His eyes were empty green
I closed my troubled eyes
Locked up my broken soul
I Pulled the trigger aimed at the man
Stared straight through the bullet hole
She whispered a silent thank you
She whispered out her soul
For the bullet hit her too
And I had never felt that cold
The sweating of the skin
The mind was not in check
The gun was heavy in my hand
She had not a defender
She had a broken soul
She had never chose this moment
This was not her goal
The intruder grabbed her wrist
Told her shut her fucking mouth
Held her against the wall
His putrid hands were going south
The clock was ticking loudly
I was still unseen
Darkness heavy in the room
His eyes were empty green
I closed my troubled eyes
Locked up my broken soul
I Pulled the trigger aimed at the man
Stared straight through the bullet hole
She whispered a silent thank you
She whispered out her soul
For the bullet hit her too
And I had never felt that cold
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