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Rated: 13+ · Poetry · Dark · #2149801
A twisted tale of insanity.
He huddled in the corner.
His eyes darting this way and that.
His skin was crawling.
Hands sweaty on the bat.

They had been watching him for months.
They even bugged his home.
Who were they?
Why wouldn't they leave him alone?

Something sounded
Out in the hall.
He was ready.
He would kill them all.

What were they doing?
Why were they waiting?
The clock was ticking.
Its sound was grating.

He couldn't stop shaking.
His mouth was desert sand.
Why they were following him
He couldn't understand.

He had gone for help.
They acted annoyed.
They said he was crazy,
Said he was paranoid.

Well here they were.
Right outside his door.
He heard their steps
On the creaking wooden floor.

The doorknob turned.
He readied his attack.
The door swung open
There was no turning back.

His swing proved true
To the side of the intruder's head.
They crumpled to the floor
Unmoving and surely dead.

He flipped on the light
Confused by what he saw.
A woman lay sprawled
With broken skull and crooked jaw.

His wife's blue eyes were staring
Her right hand twitched in death.
Bubbles of blood frothed from her mouth
From her last and final breath.

He knew that he was screaming
But couldn't hear a sound.
He knew that he was falling
But he never felt the ground.


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