In 85 they said i was free. Thats until she said she would marry me. The blood on my hands was almost dry. I dont think they thought i would live. i was suppose to die. How long could i hide the life that ended life. It was starting to be to much pressure. Drinking, thinking, hitting as much pink as i could. Would i let the blood come to my door? I had to do what i had to do. No more family. No more wife. No more son. Life on the run. Not from the law, but into lawlessness. A vest, and what worked best.

Blood on my hands. A coward killer. I never look at thier face. To get one, i had to get rid of everyone in the place. man, woman, young, old, there couldnt be anyone left to tell the story. A car, bus, train,or Plane. It was simple. Now when it happens, it had to be a terrorist.

Blood on my hands even on the road. From state to state. Whats in the box? Paper brother. Bodies wrapped up like fresh fish. I didnt catch them, so i didnt care. I just moved when i was told. Seven and a half years. Alone. No home. No rest. No whats best. You dont want blood on your hands, then you move the bodies, or you will be moving someones body you know.

2009 they said i was free again. Nigger go home. Ha, yea go home. One room with a chair, and a tv. No sleep. peeping out the door and window. Washing my hands every chance i get. Ready set go. Go where? There is no one there. Work is my haven. Saving me from hanging myself from a tree. There is no love. It has to be that way. I pushed it all away. Thats why you are alive today. You dont have to understand. Just know, when they call, i have to go. So you wont get a knock on your door.

Wow the power of words...

Very interesting write, wow! it was almost like reading a book, one that sucks you right in. freaky

thank you. It is like my little book.