The Kill

Her eyes were bright,
One thought running through her mind.
Does she really care?
Does she really love him?
No.
No, she doesn’t.

That one thought,
Running through her mind,
She lifted her hand,
And touched his face.
She couldn’t stop herself
From pressing down,
From cutting off his air.
She felt no struggle
From such a weak body.
He was gone in mere moments.

But, wait…
She didn’t really want
Such a thing.
This was her pride,
Her joy.
She couldn’t simply kill him.

In a panic,
Only she could understand,
She brought him back,
Her little baby boy.
She saw his chest
Begin to heave,
That breath filling his cheeks.

But, wait…
She didn’t really care.
She’d never love him.
Who’d want to live without love?
She didn’t want to,
He couldn’t either.

So, she lifted her hand,
And touched his face.
She couldn’t stop herself
From pressing down,
From cutting off his air.
She didn’t want to.
How could she not do this?
It was for his own good,
Her beautiful baby boy.
Gone in mere moments,
But isn’t it better this way?
After all,
She didn’t really care.