Hostage

Hostage

Harsh words spoken

Grief spilled out

A pause, a retreat

Silence.

Follow me follow you

Lining up your handguns
Looking for their cartridges

STOP!
I pleaded
Don’t do this!
You promised me no more threats,
I have it in writing.

No!
you said.
It’s the only way.

I replied,

What choice have I?
I’m going to dial 911.

And then, you uttered those chilling words:
I can pull the trigger before they get here.

Frozen in time

Shattered

Lost

held hostage by
your irrational
logic.

I died
that night.

___

K.C. 1.3.14

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About Casey

“the only people for me are the mad ones, the ones who are mad to live, mad to talk, mad to be saved, desirous of everything at the same time, the ones who never yawn or say a commonplace thing, but burn, burn, burn like fabulous yellow roman candles exploding like spiders across the stars and in the middle you see the blue centerlight pop and everybody goes ‘Awww!’ ~ Jack Kerouac, On The Road Again
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