Sebastian Correa
I slit his throat
that opens up like
a mouth, and I
notice the blood
spray cover
the white walls
of his hotel room.
With my pinky finger
(I can’t use my pointer since
he broke it during the scuffle)
I draw shapes and words:
(I guess words are shapes too)
A sad face to represent
the time he thrust his
little dick into me
while pinning me down;
A face with a thought
bubble—the bubble containing
a skull to embody the time
I planned his death, and then
I drew with his blood
a happy face for now, for
this very moment
of victory and triumph
and the sweet intoxicating
stench of revenge.
Now for the words,
I put “How does it feel
to have your life taken
from you?”
I tremble
and I find myself
silently crying
for I do not know
if the question is
for him
or if it’s for me.
***
Sebastian Correa is a full-time student pursuing his MFA in fiction at Southern State University. Although a student of fiction, Sebastian writes poetry and songs as well.