Welcome home

He's just sitting there


waiting


Two bottles, too many
Thoughts saturated
in anger, vengance
and love

Whiskey vapours flood
Setting the atmosphere

He's just sitting there


Waiting


Lights all out
Darkness feeding him
Quenched with hate

Sits in silence
The minute hand,
The old clock
Counting down

He's just sitting there


Waiting


Waiting for footsteps
They will arrive soon

She's like clockwork
Calculated and
cunning

He's just sitting there


Waiting



He hears her heels
The hooves trot closer
Her key scratches,
finds its home


He's just standing there
Waiting
Figure fills the doorway


He smells her betrayal
over his induced
Saturated despise


She looks so small,
so innocently fragile
As she presses
the door gently shut


His hands are shaking
Blood burning up
Her deceitful stench
Grows insufferable

She turns, reaches
for the light switch


He lunges forwards
Blank with fury
His hands hit
into her throat

She tried a scream
He was too quick

Slams her back hard
Maintaining grip
Her head forced
Into the wall
The plaster cracks
Cradels her head


His hands tighten
Constricting


Her skin so fair and soft
Her neck so brittle
She kicks her legs
Panic lets them buckle
Her hands everywhere
Scratching, hitting
Helpless


He stares into her
Wide eyes scrambling
He watches her try
to breathe, to live


He wants to let go
It's too late now
He watches the veins
Sprint across her face
Eyes shooting red
A bloody supernova


Then they roll back
She's not there


His hands still firm
around her throat
His fingers spring back
Leaving her to slide
down the helpfull wall


He falls to his knees
Shaking and sobbing


Was it her fault?
The drink?


He struggles to adjust
Reality seeps in slowly


His organs turning
A fountain of vomit
Explodes from his sour,
vengfull mouth


He creeps cowardly
to view his love
Still
The most beatiful ceature
He ever saw


"what have i done?"

He gasps


Welcome home conscience