The Confession - 5/13

Through all my fears and confusions,
I knew I had gone way too far;
The girl in the trunk of my car
Covered in purple contusions
And networks of scar over scar --
I needed to work in seclusion,
So I drove to the old reservoir.

My aching mind racing and plotting,
I drove in the darkness alone;
Fear had me chilled to the bone,
My sanity weakened and rotting,
My whole body soaked to the bone;
I noticed some hobos were squatting
"Oh perfect," I said with a groan.

"Hey buddy, can you spare a dollar,"
Came a voice from a gruff, weathered throat;
Monotone, as if by rote,
From somewhere beneath all the squalor --
I hadn't so much as a note,
Which made all the rest of them holler,
And come at me, wild and cutthroat.

As if I weren't busy already
With murder most bloody and foul,
They bolted at me with a howl --
Their movements erratic, unsteady,
Eyes frantic, mouths bent in a scowl,
From head to toe, filthy and sweaty--
(Bad night to be out on the prowl.)

I pulled out the handy box-cutter,
In sweeping arcs thrusted and whipped,
Clothing and skin slashed and ripped,
My blade cutting through them like butter
As if being led by a script;
The Jacket had become my rudder,
Sending each man to his crypt.

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