i wouldn’t have gone down that road. i wouldn’t have pointed the gun to his head and squeezed the trigger of his soft steel .44 magnum. i wouldn’t have felt the sting of his death spatter soil my tender aged skin. i wouldn’t have turned and walked away with little regret, bathing in the freedom of lock and load. i wouldn’t possess a buried secret rattling the chains of right and wrong in the dreams of my liberation. i wouldn’t hide in the open plains of blue sky and wheat fields sometimes counting clouds with the sweet bitter taste of heaven and hell. i wouldn’t drink the amber whiskey igniting the fire in the belly of my broken bloom.
instead i wouldn’t have gone down that road, i would have drifted my direction and walked a different life.