I wonder if it feels good,
seeing my face
As you break a fragment of my soul off.
Like the way you love
a warm blanket in the cold woods.
Or the oh too satisfying
Click
of cocked gun.
Is that the sound you imagine,
as you fracture my already crumbled heart?

Does it feel right to you?
My anguish whenever my brain allows me to think of you?
My pain as I fell to my knees and shriek like a wounded
Animal.

Do you like shooting me down?
Making me less than human
Does it make it easier to look at me?
Because I know...
it is easier to slit the throat of an animal
than to look in my eyes as you sever my vertebrae.

Does it feel to squash me beneath your number nine shoe size?
The number stamped on my forehead as a reminder
That I am yours.
Your ****.
Your trophy.

I wonder,
Did it feel good as you lined your scopes directly at my heart
Did you hesitate before you
pulled the trigger?