I don't know what you expect me to say. 
You seem to think that I can give you some kind of answer. 
Why stop and ask me? Why not just keep walking away?
Is it because of what I am?
You expect me to tell you you're wrong,
that you could be saved or forgiven?
You want me to grab you by the throat
and shout damnation that you seem to crave?
Forgiveness requires sympathy, and sympathy requires understanding. 
But you don't give any foothold for understanding. 
You refuse to give any clue about why you did what you did,
even to yourself. 

Damnation requires understanding the motives,
but you refuse to give them up. 

Is it that you don't remember why, or you don't want to face up to it?
What is it that you would face death and damnation rather than admit?

It wasn't hate and rage that killed those two.  It was fear.
Did you fear living another day? another moment?
Did you fear taking responsibility for your life,
and you lashed out in a way that would ensure your life would change forever?

If you don't have the guts to look into your heart
and own up to why you really did such a cruel and selfish thing, then I guess I should drag you by the hair to the nearest phone and turn you in.

The End

7 comments about this poem Feed