Capetonification

Spitting back at me,
a dirty little bastard fuck,
unrelenting little shit that he is.
I wanna ring his neck,
drown him in the water,
feed him the poison.
Little fuck.
Yelping like someone's going to save him.
Day's over buddy,
collect your coat,
you're going out.
"But they'll save me."
he whispers.
"No they wont."
"But Jesus said so."
"Jesus is dead."
"He was reborn."
"No man is reborn. Just wormfood."
"Blasphemer."
"All that and more"
"But what about God?"
"God left us a long time ago."
"You're wrong."
"Prove it."
Nothing more.
Nothing less.
Just death. A murder.

"I'll pray for you." He tells me.
"Fuck your prayers." I say to him
"You don't understand what you are doing."
"Oh yes I do."
Almost there.
Not long now.
The fucker's toast.
My heart begins to pound in my chest,
thudding like war-drums in my ears.
glass breaks.
bullets scream.
blood blooms.
a life is ended.
Relief.
Frustration deteriorates.
I breathe again, like it's my first taste of life.
The air is good, the smell of gunpowder and cordite strong and life-affirming.
"What now fuck-face?" I whisper.
There is no reply from my brother.
The little puke is dying.
He was wrong.
so wrong.
I beat him.
Our brain and skull lays scattered across the tiled floor,
The gun smoking in our left hand.
I see all this in the bathroom mirror, the play of
murder
suicide
death
end
I see this, and I know it is good.
Peace.