Editor's ChoiceMusingsPoetry

I Know A Murderer

Breathes nervously.
I am about to tell you a secret, please don’t spill.

Cocks head side to side.
Hyperventilating…
I… uhm, I killed my pen today, I am a murderer. I watched him bleed slowly, I don’t know why, but I enjoyed it.
I watched his blood spew out slowly, and dried on my A4 sheets.

Cries softly.
My first taste for kill.
A crack on the rim.
Blood congealed. I think I am gonna be sick.

Sniffs.
If you’re reading this, I feel guilty.
I am gonna be tried.
Possibly few years behind the pen, possibly I’d be an ex-convict.

Looks around nervously.
I think I hear something.
A distinct sound, I hear the cuffs jiggling.

My suicide note will read,

‘I love y’all to death.’

Do I feel regrets?
No, no I don’t.

But… I am scared.
I killed my pen.

He deserved to die any ways.

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