Seeing Red

The creak of the chair,
As I rocked back and forth.
Counted down the seconds,
Until it moaned rhythmically--

To the sound of your footfalls on the porch.

I was a bit trigger happy,
With this gun in my hand.
As I sat--Perched,
Behind the door.

I had been waiting patiently for this day.

The look of shocked recognition,
Forever etched to memory.
Didn't give you time to react,
As I shot you dead.

Now my visions stained red.