Part 2 of the story started in Until It's Gone. How does that guy deal with the brutal death of the love of his life? It's a case of domestic violence and he tried to warn her.....but karma is a bitch, right?
I got a text this morning. How do ya….how do you reckon it read?
It said, “Hurry, hurry Mr. Angleoneous, ‘cause that gal you love is dead.
Couldn’t believe what it said. Dropped the phone in the no-fuckin’-way zone.
Shock set in with a toxic groan, with a mocking should-have-been-praying tone.
I grabbed up my suitcase and took off, down the road to the funeral home.
When I got there she was lying on a cooling board by a casket adorned with chrome.
Well I walked up right close, grabbed her icy hand and looked down at her face.
Barely recognized the good ol’ gal, as she lay, too early for judgment day.
Surreal as I stared at the only human being on the planet that mattered.
Still wearing the necklace I gave her, but now her angelic features were beaten and battered.
I told her, her new man was trouble, numerous times and none too subtle.
I told her, “His skull is made up of knuckle, met women’s lip with a fisty rebuttal.”
But she didn’t listen ‘cause he was the struggle, the perfect fit for her picket-fence puzzle.
His sorry-game hustle, proved her too trustful. Her questioning lead to their final tussle.
I’m ready to kill and I’m ready to die for trying. No turning back; upset.
This dude was on the loose and managed to elude as the authorities’ leading suspect.
Uh well it looked like there were ten thousand people, standing ‘round the burying ground.
I knew I loved her, but I didn’t really know I loved her, ‘tl they laid her down.
Uh well I folded up my arms and walked away, head full of everything that I didn’t get to say.
It came down to a summed up, “Farewell, Honey.” and “I’ll see you on judgment day.”
The pain cloud I was in was shaken to a rain by the rage. The abuser was free.
‘Cause I’m knowing he was guilty, he was coincidentally not found by police.
But, the arm of the law was beckoning, to face, the deafening music of reckoning.
Dude was on blast, on every newscast; to turn himself in he was wanted for questioning.
He better hope they find him, ‘cause if I do, I’ma beat his ass to death’s edge.
Priest said, I was full of nonsense, cleared my head, talked me down off of knowing that ledge.
“She’s dead and life in prison ain’t going to bring her back.” I wasn’t trying to hear that.
My world just crashed, not bad meaning bad, but bad meaning real fucking bad.
And then that cold, hit me tenfold, when the good old sun went down.
Fell into a void of a hole, didn’t have a soul to throw my arms around.
Drank myself into a stupor, things went black and blanked the future.
No man’s land with a bottle in hand, flatliner’s maneuver to reach out to her.
Well I got up this morning at the break of day, hugging, the pillow where she used to lay.
Said I got up this morning at the break of day, hugging on the pillow where my good gal used to lay.
Checked my phone, it was another death text, Cops caught up to that murder suspect.
He ran on foot when he was found, splattered by a sixty-mile-an-hour Greyhound.
Tried to play Frogger on I-35, now responders are scraping him off of the side.
Well that didn’t bring my ol’ gal back to life. I heard karma’s a bitch, now I know that’s no lie.
Ah hush, shhh. Thought I heard her call my name.
But, it wasn’t so loud, so nice and plain.
from Talkin' Story,
released October 14, 2016
Produced by aeon grey.