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Bunny
Fuck The Beatles.
And fuck the mockery their songs are making of my life right now.
Digging the pen into my forearm deeper to darken the word “goodbye” stings, yet the pain, ironically enough, momentarily soothes.
Helps me forget about the destruction I’m causing outside of my own life.
The destruction I will continue to cause unless I do the one thing I should’ve never stopped doing.
The one thing I should never stop doing.
The only thing I know I can do to keep those I care about safe.
Run.
Moving the pen over just a fraction, I start the word “hello” again.
Funny thing about saying hello.
Very rarely does anyone think about it changing their lives.
Had I never said hello to that gas station attendant, he probably wouldn’t have had to scrub away animal blood off his bathroom door.
Had I never said hello to that waitress she’d probably still be alive, not mutilated with a tail shaped piece missing from her ass as a clear sign he knows I had contact with her.
Had I never said hello to Nolan, detectives probably wouldn’t be trying to get access to his records to prove he committed a crime.
And had I never said hello to the man sprawled out on the living room floor over there, he probably wouldn’t have to live with murder on his conscience.
Tears collect in my throat creating a lump too massive to choke down and too dense to ignore.
What the fuck am I still doing here?
Why the fuck am I being so goddamn selfish?
These men don’t deserve this.
Their lives shouldn’t have to be at risk because I was that fucking desperate for a few moments of solace.
Anxious to live a life filled with laughter.
And freedom.
And lov…
My lips press tightly together in a refusal to even think that word.
Nope.
Not happening.
Because it’s not possible.
Because it’s not practical.
Because…it’s not something I can process being true.
