Cowboy Killer

Cowboy Killer (6th January, 2009, 2.24pm)

He strode in like a cold wind
blowing through my mind,
words slung from his hips like
guns, bullets ready for firing;
deadly, silver-tongued ones.

He dropped the accusations;
shattering, glass-like at my feet,
and the whisky lies came spilling
across the hard tiles of truth
as I screamed ‘don’t shoot!’

His open mouth like a tunnel
for my frightened rabbit eyes;
where was Alice when I needed
her? My cupcake-gorged surprise
for his Cheshire Cat-like smile.

I felt fragile as a miniature doll,
caught in their house of rumour,
then grew, giant-like, desperate,
swallowed shots of Dutch Courage
as I advanced, defenceless.

My palms gripped ivory handles,
carved from a righteous tower
as I spat my own excuses; a sea
of hurt swelled between us. I had
no choice but to shoot you.

And so the bullets flew like words,
And the words unfurled like truth.