In a panic I called the police. I didn't
know what to do. I felt that God had
left me, that his angels just stood
by as my soul filled with devils and
demons spawned from Hell.
I'm miserable, I wish I was unfeeling.
What a hateful thing I have become.
I killed him. I did. A ball and chain
he'd called me. Said I was a frigid
bitch and wished me straight to hell.
Well, he got his wish alright, I'm
in hell now without a reprieve.
I waited until he was asleep, and
shot him with his own gun.
Blood spattered every where. Who knew?
I don't need a rat-fink to spell out
what I have done. I admit to it.
It's just that, please, I really want to
go to heaven and not stay inside the
hell in my head.
Author notes
This is not about me or anyone I know.
This is about what happens when one too many words of verbal abuse are tossed about like candy.
Written May 15th, 2006
In a list
A contest entry
- Artistic Violence by s p a r k l e Xx.
400 points, ended September 12, 2006, 12 entries
Bronze trophy winner
• next poem in this contest, remove from contest
What did you think
Comments
-
Hahaha, it shouldn't make me laugh but it does.. it just seems to scream revenge.
-
Merry meet Laura,
Thank you for your compliments on my poem. Sometimes our worst demons are the ones we create for ourselves. Thank you again for commenting.
Amythest -
brill
intresting write!
The demon is herself
i like it!
Cool language used and the way you build up the tension cuz people wanna know what you did and stuff!
its a good write
Anyways
Laura
xxx
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