Write (it) Away

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Dear Monster, Tyrant, Villain,


                I am pushing the car over the cliff, with you in it. I am lighting the house on fire while you are asleep inside. I am screaming at the police across the street, so that they come running, and cuff you, and haul you off, in front of everyone.

                But first, I am writing down everything. I am documenting all of your misdeeds. I am penning each and every blow that you have landed and all of the insults you have slung at me. Your wrongs will be chipped into the stone that I will set on the dirt over your head, when I am through with you.

                The pages are filling. My pen is drying out. The car is running out of gas. Snow is falling on the fire. The police do not hear my voice, and I am only whispering now.

                Be gone, Monster.

                Tyranny is not welcome here.

                I will be the hero in this story, and no villain shall remain.

                I am setting this letter on the coals, so that the edges may curl and char. These words will darken and flake into ash. Right before they disappear, a small spot of red will glow. You will not suffer my disaster. Peace will grow like a phoenix, swirling through the smoke, out of the inky embers.



                                Walking Away.


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