God here it comes again,
sneaking up on me
like a snake-bastard
just waiting for
my bare, unshaved
ankles to make
their ashen presence
known.
It coils around
my neck and
my eyes pop
out of my head
one at a time.
It's done with-
his arms are
outstretched and
he's climbing the floor
for the gun
his hands still
rest on.
I turn to run down
the stairs like
I'm in the pitch black
field, running from
a monster who died
a long time ago.
What else is there to do
but fall to your knees
and ***** all the
butterflies and
chicken nuggets you can
hold?
That's where I'm left.
I'm getting off my knees,
slowly but surely,
so there's that.