Target Audience

not very sorry

I take a pencil.

I jam it into my ear.

I'm tired of hearing you speak.

I'm tired of listening to you.

Tired of doing what you say.

Tired of you controlling me.

A sharp ring vibrates through my head.

Your eyes widen as a steady stream of red trickles down my neck.

It's warm.

Like the sun.

I pull the pencil out.

I hand it to you.

You stare at it.

For the first time,

You're speechless.

Your mouth is wide open.

Your head is empty.

Your eyes are wild.

I wipe the blood from my hands and walk out the door.

You don't move an inch.

I walk out to the street,

And can feel you staring at me from the window.

Cars zoom by,

Whipping my hair around violently.

I step forward,

And

You scream.

The bus hits me with so much force that I can feel all of my bones break.

My feet get snagged under the wheel,

And I get slammed against the concrete.

It takes a second for the bus driver to slam on the brakes.

By the time it's at a full stop I'm 10 feet behind it.

I can see you running out of the building.

It didn't have to end this way,

But it did.