Half Past Midnight In My Holding Cell
Do it.
My hands tremble.
The razor clatters to the ground.
He begs for mercy.
My hands are trembling.
Don't hesitate. Make it quick.
He's begging for mercy.
Please, don't kill me.
I hesitate — make it quick!
I close the door.
Please don't kill me. I have a family.
I feel the cold blade between my fingers.
I shut the bathroom door
over his calls for help.
I feel the razor's graze, its icy gleam cuts
how a lullaby cuts through nightmares.
He's tried calling out for help.
He's done everything he could.
I sing him a lullaby
to quiet his fears.
I'm doing everything I can
to make it painless for myself.
I quiet my fears. I silence my doubts.
I forget all those I've ever cared about.
To make it easy and painless for myself,
I pretend I'm executing someone else.
Not anyone I've ever cared about,
just a stranger and nobody else.
I pretend to execute someone else.
Do it.
Just a stranger and nobody else.
My razor clatters to the ground.