It Should not have Come to This (poem)





It started one Friday night, not so long ago

The lights were out, and the moon shone bright

The stars took turns and danced around the moon.

 I sat by my window and wondered how long it would take him to get home.

 How much longer would I have to survive? There was not a lot of time to ponder my thoughts; I’d come to a decision. I am all in, too late to consider the cost. I hate it must come to this.

I heard the car as it crept into the yard, the sound of a thousand lightning bugs as they took to the sky; even the bugs know to fly away or die.

I sat by my window and wondered still how long it would take, will I be able to kill. 

So much has happened. I hate it had to come to this, but my husband has left me no choice; what else am I to do. He talks a good game, but will he ever change?

The front door is open, his footsteps in the hall. He is on his way up; it will not be much longer now. 

My mind is a whirlwind, my thought all ablaze. Too late for this now; it is time to come out of this haze. My husband, my best friend, is outside the door, why hesitate? Please come in. With the gun in my hand, I point at the door. Not much longer now, he will be lying on the floor. I will have to clean the carpet after his spilled blood creates a mess—no time to think about that now. I should have thought of that ahead of time, too late for such silliness, much more critical matters ahead.

The door opens; he walks in the room, a smile on his face, not even aware of his impending doom. What is that in his hand? Oh my God, he had the same plan? I saw his finger as he pulled the trigger. There was not much time; got off on shot; that was the last thing I remember. 

He fell to the left. I fell on the bed. Is this how the story ends? Both of us are dead.  

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