The Confession - 2

Watching his slow expiration,

    His blood pooling on the cement,

    Beaten to fatal extent, 

My whole body seized by elation;

    Basking in his malcontent,

Deaf to his choking prostration, 

    I watched as the light in him went.

Once the poor guy's life was over,

    My rage and adrenalin sunk,

    I took one last kick at the punk, 

Unlocked the doors of my Nova, 

    And stuffed the dead guy in the trunk;

With no other details left over, 

    I suddenly wished I were drunk.

I had to get lost in a hurry,

    The gas pedal down to the floor;

    To my apartment I tore, 

Trying my best not to worry

    (I'd never killed someone before) --

My senses confusing and blurry, 

   Drowned out by vehicle's roar.

Finally reached my apartment,

    Against the closed door I was slumped;

    Thought of the guy I'd just bumped,

The smell was becoming abhorrent --

    Bloody hair matted and clumped --

The whole mess reeked like an armpit;

    The body would need to be dumped --

So I rolled it up tight in a carpet.

    

After what seemed like an hour,

    My energy shrunk to a mote,

    I swallowed the lump in my throat,

Undressed, and got in the shower --

Yet somehow neglected to note

    (Facial expression gone dour)

I was still wearing the coat.

- © Jackson Cambridge, 2015.