The air was warm When we set out for the ocean waves I’d slipped the cyanide into his drink While he was jogging; Hard work, no payoff. And as I gripped the steering wheel, I thought about the things That they would say And do About the coffee shop girl whose lover had died And I thought about the flowers And the people who would bring them And how they would say “that poor girl” “that poor, lonely girl Whose lover has died.” And I smiled because I couldn’t wait; But as I gripped The steering wheel The yellow dashes on the road Began to form A single line And I looked over at him; His eyes furiously blink-blink-blinking As he opened his mouth And looked back at me He struggled to breathe As I struggled to see the road And then to breathe as well And suddenly The car was upside down And filled with gasps for life And I thought to myself: "Is there pity in Hell?"
Max Winters:
When I returned to the condo She was outside the door With my energy drink And a beach bag And a beautiful smile And I began to feel bad For pouring the bleach in her morning coffee But later In the car Her smile is gone; Fingers choking the steering wheel And I remind myself That it had to be done She had to be put out of her misery And even though she was my world She had to leave ours But suddenly My train of thought was derailed As my breaths became gasps And my chest became an inferno I looked over at her But she was blurry And then we were upside down Our lungs now broken promises And our eyes white lies Built up and gone wrong And I thought to myself: “I hope she’ll be happy in Heaven.”