Confession - 6

Despite my fanatic hair trigger

(Dead hobos tossed, piled in the mud,

The whole reservoir painted in blood),

I felt so much stronger and bigger;

Rage exploded from me in a flood --

Weaponized me like a scud, 

Imbued with renewed vim and vigor.

Had the coat transformed me to a killer,

Or was that just paranoid bunk?

Was I merely a psychotic punk,

Who'd put himself up on a pillar

Justifying his violent spelunk?

Either way, I'd become a grave filler

(Not to mention the girl in my trunk).

I regarded my nightmarish playground

And all of the lives I had stole;

The jacket and I reached our goal,

And right then, I knew I was hellbound --

My urges beyond all control;

Much as I tried to stay earthbound,

Coat's poison was deep in my soul.

I dragged all the bodies (quite heavy)

Together, in haphazard ways,

Set the whole crime scene ablaze,

Sped off in my '92 Chevy

At Mach 4 (no time for delays) --

Laughing through inferno's haze,

I headed off, bound for the levee.

I had to get rid of the body,

The car too, if I'd dodge the heat --

Beating a hasty retreat, 

It seemed as though I had been shoddy:

A gunshot from Chevy's back seat --

My vision went cloudy and spotty,

Would this be my final defeat?

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- © Jackson Cambridge, 2016.