Confession - 5

Through all my fears and confusions,

I knew I had gone way too far;

The girl in the trunk of my car

Covered in purple contusions

And networks of scar over scar --

I needed to work in seclusion,

So I drove to the old reservoir.

My aching mind racing and plotting,

I drove in the darkness alone;

Fear had me chilled to the bone, 

My sanity weakened and rotting,

My whole body soaked to the bone;

I noticed some hobos were squatting

"Oh perfect," I said with a groan.

"Hey buddy, can you spare a dollar,"

Came a voice from a gruff, weathered throat;

Monotone, as if by rote,

From somewhere beneath all the squalor --

I hadn't so much as a note, 

Which made all the rest of them holler,

And come at me, wild and cutthroat.

As if I weren't busy already

With murder most bloody and foul,

They bolted at me with a howl --

Their movements erratic, unsteady, 

Eyes frantic, mouths bent in a scowl,

From head to toe, filthy and sweaty--

(Bad night to be out on the prowl.)

I pulled out the handy box-cutter, 

In sweeping arcs thrusted and whipped,

Clothing and skin slashed and ripped,

My blade cutting through them like butter

As if being led by a script;

The Jacket had become my rudder,

Sending each man to his crypt. 

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- © Jackson Cambridge, 2016.