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Aug 2016
Apology Not Accepted

Last meal, last drink, last walk, last breath.
This is real and I am content with this end.
For taking her life I am sentenced to death.
Perhaps this will help her children mend.

So long ago yet I still recall every detail.
I know what day it was and the time on the clock.
I was following the tracks determined to ride the rails.
The woman said she was just taking a walk.

I remember her eyes were bloodshot and wet.
I expressed concern for the bruises present.
Her head spun to face me, her eyes heated and set.
She scolded me for speaking of something so unpleasant.

Her body became tense and then relaxed completely.
She stared at the tracks as the train came into view.
Her eyes softened and she turned to me smiling sweetly.
She apologized and asked that I forgive what she was about to do.

Confused I asked why she was asking me to forgive her.
She laughed, said for the image sure to stay in your mind.
My eyes met hers and I felt something inside me stir.
She thanked me for being so concerned and kind.

As she turned her hands came together in prayer.
Seconds later she stepped in front of the train.
Stunned all I could do was stand there and stare.
Her body ripped apart and blood fell like rain.

A witness said I pushed her into the train's path.
The distance between us prevented a different end.
If I could have reached her I would have known her wrath.
However to remove the image left in me I pretend.

I spoke only on the moments leading up to the witnesses lie.
My life was empty and I was craving a way to get away from me.
This is a relief from the images implanted in my minds eye.
I am not guilty of killing her yet I welcome the end of eyes that see.

Becky Jo Gibson
Becky Jo Gibson
Written by
Becky Jo Gibson  59/F/San Diego
(59/F/San Diego)   
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