This poem was inspired by a news article I recently read about a husband stabbing his wife upon discovering that she wanted to leave him to be with another man she had been having an affair with. After stabbing his wife, Gallear rang the emergency services and claimed that he had lost it.
Lost it, lost it, I lost
it, her — my mind, the knife, everything we —
Where is she?
In our — this house, the kitchen floor.
I tried chest compressions, her– more
blood spews onto my face, eyelids,
Blinking away guilt,
nothing stems the bleeding.
My wife chose another man over
To let a married man drive himself into
you? One. I’ll drive this into your–
Two. To love a man with a wife,
more than you love me?
She deserves it.
Cloudy incomprehension reduces
sanity into a soundless blur.
No, this is not revenge. This is
Onwards, and onwards! Knifing the filthy flesh on her
skeletal chest. Animal–
“What are you doing? I still love you,”
she sputters, and —
My blood curdling machinery malfunctions.
You lie on our Family kitchen tiles-
a slaughtered prey.
Daughters we’ve made by bestiality,
once walked upon your death bed unknowingly.
If I had known this were to happen,
I would have chained my paws, long before our
Love turned threadbare,
long before I turned from Husband to Predator.
Featured image from: https://www.pinterest.com/pin/387168899189602082/