Creative fun in
the palm of your hand.
Printed from https://www.writing.com/main/view_item/item_id/1626495-How-to-use-his-gun
Rated: 13+ · Poetry · Dark · #1626495
Poem reflective of a woman's bitter struggle in the dating realm.
How to use his gun

I clicked my heels together, I followed the yellow brick road
All the way to Kansas, where he lived, now our humble abode
We had been communicating, for a year at the time I decided to go
What would've happened if I had stayed behind, I guess I never will know

So, I bid farewell to my friends and mother and brother who stayed,
I packed my things, and, like a gypsy, was gone in no more than a day
He's the only man that hath the power to move me in such a dramatic way,
And after I'd met him I knew that there was no way I could possibly stay

I unpacked my things, nabbed a job, and opened a bank account
But soon realized, too late, why I should've listened to my feelings of doubt
As I lie there motionless, body bruised, worn, and  unable to move
I thought about the coming day, and what it would be wise to do
It was the first time, and last time, he would hit me or bruise me in anyway
It was the first time, and last time, he would ever convince me to stay
In hiding it he should've found a better hiding place,
Because I found it, whilst cleaning, one cold, lonely, winter day

I found it, and took it, knowing he would never know
Because I acted as though my passive self  would never go,
I used it because I had promised myself, long, long ago
That if he ever came at me in anger again, to him I would show

That I had learned and been taught well how to use his gun
In teaching me he'd taught me well, for he had been the one
To show me how to lock and load that powerful device
Now I knew, and know it well, that only death would suffice

Because death was the only thing that would keep him from hurting me again,
And I had realized long ago that he was a lover, but not a friend
And I used it well, I find, as a means to an end
In a relationship that really never should've had the chance to begin

For I had seen the signs early on, when the red flags should've pegged fear
But all those flags were torn down any time he called me near,
For just the feeling of being wanted was enough to keep me there,
And being alone was hardly something I could think to bear

So, I clicked my heels together, I followed the yellow brick road
I grabbed the gun, pointed, and started to lock and load
And in that moment, I knew, this was the first time, and last time, his body would house life
This was the first time, and last time, his doings would ever cut me like a knife

I pulled the trigger, and watched the blood drain from himself,
I ran over, covered his mouth so that he may not yell for help
And, on the coldest of cold winter nights,
I think back to those ugly days and ugly nights,

When he would hold me hostage in a place far away
From my mother and my brother who had chose to stay,
And I am happy with them now, as I chose to return
To my home, which was with them, as I now had learned
I would never let a man treat me like that in future years,
I would never let a man lead me to so many tears,
I would never let a good man go, nor let a bad man run
Because that one had taught me well how to use his gun
© Copyright 2009 amanda87 (amanda87 at Writing.Com). All rights reserved.
Writing.Com, its affiliates and syndicates have been granted non-exclusive rights to display this work.
Printed from https://www.writing.com/main/view_item/item_id/1626495-How-to-use-his-gun