premeditation
of a dissociation
only meets you with dissatisfaction
as you run past
the rolling black of hills
that are backlit from the turning auburn afternoon skies,
drawing eyes that only see askew.
what were you to do?
a housewife with no husband
would only sound absurd.
catholicism doesn't love divorce,
but he seemed to love it even more.
how could he you thought,
you went off to the cypress
to see where you went wrong.
smith and wesson
tried to reason
with a lead lined meaning,
but sweat and slip
flipped a trigger barrel blam
that the world soon heard
all across the land.
crimes of the heart,
no matter where they start,
always trail back to tears.
you weren't worth more
than a young and vibrant girl
and now that girl is dead.
why aren't you happy then?
