I never thought it would be me,
had been assured by professionals
I did not possess the capacity,
that those who had committed wrong,
had in reality nothing to fear
but the lash of a sharp tongue.

One evening everything changed,
the magic which had kept me safe,
kept me out of touch with that portion
of my civility I feared an illusion,
simply evaporated.

When the police arrived,
everything was silent.
The corpses a few yards from me
would have no confessions,
could add nothing to unravel
the mystery.

It is often said, every man and woman
has a breaking point,
my immunity to this truest of tales
abandoned me as surely as protection
via inoculation, had failed under assault
by November's flu.  

But now I had removed myself from
that controlled humanity
of whom I had always been so proud.
Fingers clenched my smoking gun
like they had never been apart
just a familiar hand in a fitted glove.