the night.
the deceased air.
he breathes it in.
clenching fist.
holding flashlight in hand.
seeing his way for cracks.
in the sidewalk.
the door opens.
almost like a response to his intentions.
make him hurt.
make him regret ever setting finger.
on his phone keyboard.
and he sets in on the boy.
cute in his sleep.
black hair rested on what the night made purple.
the blinds were open.
and jaebum closed them.
for fear of a fright the others didn't deserve.
fingering around in his pocket.
he felt a cold glass bottle.
with two metal holes.
to properly administer what was inside.
the bottle.
and with a pull of a metal rod.
and the flick of a needle.
he became a doctor for a night.
fully clothed for the occasion.
degree affirmed by a dealer.
and he pulled down the cotton covers.
revealing a naked torso.
cold on the surface.
even through the operator gloves.
he stuck in the sharp end.
a liquid grudge.
plunged into a vein system.
that God only made to kill.
and let rot under a floor board.
and god.
did a boy with such smooth skin.
look so beautiful as his steady breathing.
became so quick that it shorted out.
and the room was nothing but silent hole.
in the universe that is so loud.
he marveled in his work.
as he vouched for his patient.
as to why he had to die.
