Only Way Out

By jajang829

I wake from my stupor,

Wipe the blood crusted tears from my face

And remember you and what you’ve done.

Your wonderful sex filled lies

Sent from your dungeon to my cell

I’m free now and want you no more.

The sand falls from my hands

Stained with the blood of our memories

My pain hidden by your touch

Increased inside your soul

And immortalized by my neglect

I stand here holding the gun

Feeling out of control and confused

I put the gun to my head and run from you

Am I the assassin or the suicide?

Running the corridors of my mind

Pursued by the accusations of murder

The gun is to my head once more

The only death I seek would be mine

Though I want none by my hand

The gun to my head breeds my guilt

Among those who do not know

I hold the gun because of the accusers

But I’m accused because I hold the gun

How could you be my only way out?

I stand here holding the gun

Feeling out of control and enraged

I put the gun to my head and run from you

Am I the assassin or the suicide?

My mind floods with clarity

And the darkness of death takes hold

I turn to stare at you

For you are the assassin and the suicide.

Our only way out.

Unauthorized Copying Is Prohibited. Ask the author first.

Published on Saturday, October 3, 2009. Filed under: "Poetry"

Comments on "Only Way Out"

On Monday, November 14, 2011, jajang829 (23) wrote:

Thank you for all the great feedback! This work was a poetic narrative of a dream, mixed with some outside influence. It was a strangely free write. Not because of the content, but more because it allowed me to analyze my dream from the outside. Truly the most unique writing session I've ever had. The reaction and feedback from my readers is the icing on the cake. Thank you all!
On Saturday, April 3, 2010, Musik2MyEyes (192) wrote:

Very very dark indeed. Many different views of this. I agree with Rowen, this is one to come back to as after reading it now I feel as troubled as the man with the gun. I have not reached the clarity he has. I don't want him to hand her the gun. You leave the option for the reader to write their own ending. What a great piece.
On Friday, April 2, 2010, Rowan (197) wrote:

The words seeped into my mind to take me on a runaway train of thoughts. The "freedom" you acquired in the first staza didn't appear to be what it was. As I read every line, you made me feel what you felt. I felt trapped, unsure, roaming down cornered paths and blocked crossroads. I couldn't escape, but then there was the gun, a promise to be free of all the torment. However, the dilema. "To be or not to be?" the assassin or the suicide? You put great emphasis on this part. To be free from your lover's reign and end their life? Or to be free eternally and end yours? The ending took me by surprise I must say. You called your lover both those things for in reality she was the one leading you to destruction therefore killing you, the suicide. Hmmm so many thoughts I have for this piece. I may have to come back and comment again another time. There are so many ways to look at it. Very nice job. Not many pieces make me think as hard this.
On Thursday, April 1, 2010, HeadpatSlut (257) wrote:

Quite the dark poem you've written here, thanks for the badass write.
On Friday, March 26, 2010, Miztaken4beauty (176) wrote:

Streage brew, but its unique.