Day 27 - Agony

It was waking up without an arm that did it.

First, confusion

and panic. Then

anger, my phantom limb

an itching reminder of pain

that won't be numbed by the cold

and loss

that piles up empty.

All the calm I had clung to since

this apocalypse started

was gone, I couldn't stand what the world

became and what I was unbecoming

I hated human beings

for being built with so many crutches,

I didn't care if the dead

would hear it for miles,

I took out my revolver and shot

the basket of food the couple had made

for me, still wrapped tight,

I was not to be a slave to any

kind of hunger again, I hated its hold

so I fired all six shots there

and stomped the scattered remains

so nothing was left salvageable.

I didn't care if I was acting like a child

at that moment,

there was no one around to act right for.

No one around to

tell me I was wrong

and maybe,

no one around worth this surviving.