a mothers son

A mothers son is the last thing I see in my mind at the flash

The rounds rips through my body and the media rips through my life

finding pictures of high school or college me standing menacing and mean.

They don’t mention my degree or accolades

not the people who look up to me nor

the one I leave behind.

They refuse to acknowledge my humanity

i’m only a animal for their needs

they don’t listen to my wife, kids, family or friends.

I was taken by another mothers son

fear in his eyes mirrored my own

looking at his gun as if he didn’t pull it

each shot hit me and him, but only I bled

his screams echoed off the walls

his arms trembling with each shot

Seeing his tears streak down his face

his words as I slid down the wall

he thought I had a gun, it was groceries

he held me as I bled out

calling for help

his apologies did little to slow the blood loss

his promises to never do it again.

I didn’t mean to do it realizing to late

his headphone blocked voice

he was too big, too tall

I felt small

pulling my gun

shouting freeze

a kid pointed at me

he spun around pushing them back

I fired upon seeing his eyes

his son watch me

his wife pulling him away

he was a family man

a life i took

my insecurity weighs on me accepting this award for quick thinking

I haven’t slept since

all i see is his son looking at me asking why

his wife pulling the boy back

sitting here at my mothers table

i have my note

i have my weapon

i have the award they thrust upon me

I was my mothers son:

kind loving gentle human

now

i’m

i’m

just another statistic

a murder

revered for my actions

self loathing taking over

until

I become the most massaged statistic

the suicide rate of people like me

“Dear Mom,

Sorry you had to find me like this.  Just like you found dad.  You tried to tell me that this job would kill me especially if I killed another mothers child.  You were right Mom.  When I pulled the trigger my life ended with his. I’ve destroyed so many lives with a few bullets. His life, mine, and maybe his son’s who watched the whole thing.

Your loving child”

–  Dreads

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