Tough Love

January 10, 2011
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A haunting crack fills the bloody and lightless sunset,
And I’m jerked backwards off guard to nearly choke.
But it’s only the sky you’ve peppered with rotting smoke.

“I’m starting to get tired of all this,” you mockingly said,
Carefully raising the barrel to my swimming head.
“I won’t miss this time, so don’t be such a bore.”
I can’t recognize your cold voice anymore.

We face off weapon to weapon and gun to gun
Just like we used to stand and fight back to back.
There’s a breeze arrogance to your filtered laugh,
And it’s going to make my finger tighten on this metal.
So please stop before this frost in my chest starts to settle.

Panic sweeps your face like the Great London fire,
And a second shot shatters the world tonight.
My hands quiver like traitors in my blurred sight.
Your silhouette crumples as I drop my murder tool.

Falling to my knees, my iron resolve trips.
For now, in the end, as you fingers grow cold,
That old grin that was gone for so many years
Has come back to grace your dying lips.

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