A Personal Farewell

And there I was suddenly,

staring at her pale, dead blue eyes.

“This is it, isn’t it?”

I asked her, but with no reply;

only a trembling in her lips.

Hysteria begins to overwhelm me –

I felt the cold, weight of that silver .45 press against my temple.

Here it comes;

she will finally be the finality of me.

Maybe this torture will cease now.

But what a fool I am! Ha!

She will never have mercy on me!

She will never pull that trigger for a coward she is!

I watch her gaze as it haunts my vision;

piercing into me as if to center that knife deep into my heart.

I see her pity for me,

so repulsively beautiful,

as it drips from her face.

“What are you waiting for?!” I screamed at her.

I hated her,

Oh, how I hated the woman who was a curse to my life!

A curse to life;

to humanity!

And I cannot live in a time where she wanders;

I cannot be attached to her anymore –

to her fears, to her dreams,

to her irrationality.

Her insanity is a parasite!

Oh, how she’s contagious!

Rip me from her, I plead!

And as that last droplet of sweat descends from my forehead,

tingling my skin in its warm mass,

I last her speak;

those haunting words that will imprint onto my soul -

“She is me.”

And that click of the silver marches quickly

as I fall so unforgivingly before that mirror.