far away, outside my door
i could hear the shot gun blast
wondering if he was safe anymore
hopin' he got outta there fast.
my door flung open, i heard him gasp
said "think i finally killed her"
he took off his gloves and boots and mask
it gave me chills like the bone of winter
i patted his back and offered him tea
for now he was distant and forlorn
said "just sit close to me, sweet pea"
in his arms, i felt so alive, felt like being born.
we loaded up the old crimson truck
with bags and guts, hair and brains
we roared loudly away and the chickens clucked
a bumpy ride, we kissed as we switched lanes
i looked in the back seat, but just couldn't tell
the color of the seat from the color of her blood
"together and free at last!" out of the window, i yelled
and soon she'll be buried in the mud.
we turned off the lights and hopped on down
my tiny hand carrying the smaller bags,
he was towing the rest of her on the ground
he stopped, lit a cigarette and took a drag
we were finally bringing out the old
ecstatic and in love, but shaking
wondering if this glittery feeling of gold
is really real or is he just faking?
so we found a spot and dug and dug
then began to feel a sweat
"we really did it" he said, i shrugged
she wasn't gone yet
there were pieces of her long blond hair
getting stuck to my shirt..
i kept seeing pieces of her skin so fair
poking out of the wet dirt…
she was standing next to him in spirit
i could see it in his tired and fearful eyes
his regret of her ****** was so clear it
was like his pain was written in the skies
the final scoops of the dull ****** dust
were sprinkled over the layers of hate
"we shouldn't have done this, we are just in lust -
i shouldn't have took her life, but now it's too late"
he weeped, and moaned and started to walk away
i followed him down, through the eery trails
"don't you see, this is supposed to be a glorious day!
for now our lives can be nothing short of fairy tale!"
he turned around and said "just go home
i want nothing to do with your conniving tricks…
you evil creature with a head full of poisoned foam
it's not her, but you who should be dead under the sticks!"
before he could say one more hurtful untrue word
i smacked his mouth with my muddy shovel
he fell down hard and groaned, his speech slurred
i grabbed the knife from his ****** belt buckle
i stood over him, "take back what you said!
i'm not the evil one, it's you
you'll always be the reason why she's dead!
i laugh and i know it's true"
i put him to his death that night
for he no longer deserved to exist
chopped and killed with all my mite
left his body there, alone, in the early morning mist.
i was driving away fast and started to grin
when i realized that i was the one defeated,
for now, their souls fly together in the endless wind,
and i'm still the mistress but the one who was cheated.
Marilyn Metzger, 2011
Long Island