Lucky Room Seven

She is on the run.

A Bonnie despicably afraid of her Clyde.

The backdrop of the departing sun

and the unease of the cool wind,

tickling her neck,

a constant shadow of regret

haunting her dreams

and becoming a nightmare made flesh.

Lucky number seven,

the seventh day of the seventh month

of the year two-thousand seven–

Ring, ring!

“Room for one, please.”

Lucky Room Seven.

Her personal haven

as she runs from the law.

Her personal prison

as she stares at the double-locked door

with a brass doorknob

and a very tempting

DO NOT DISTURB sign.

The air is stale,

a clinical perfume,

a miasma of hurried movements

and bleach, with an undertone

of fetid passion and–

Ring, ring!

“Ms. Carlisle, your husband is here,

is it not queer?

A lady without a ring,

what kind of trouble will this bring?

Sir, you cannot–”

Bam, bam!

Unease is a bitter and constant friend and

her personal companion

when she is on the road.

it anchors her to this world–

her pinch back to reality

as she lives the criminally-famed lifestyle

without the whores, booze, and money.

An empty suitcase

filled with empty wrappers

and a vial of hemlock,

she stares at the double-locked door,

trigger fingers itchy.

Dammit Claire! Open up!

The double-lock held on tight,

and gave her enough time

to pop the lid off,

and swallow the elixir of passionate death.

Feet wobbling and eyes hazy,

she walks to the bathroom,

Staring at her reflection with a winsome smile.

Pushing her bangs off her forehead

and admiring her aquamarine eyes,

fatigue stark against her pasty skin.

Open up, Ms. Carlisle!

She laughs a broken laugh

and succumbs to the poisons’

seductive song.

The fateful double-lock

finally gives in as the police barge in

guns out and metal cuffs clanking.

“Ms. Carlisle?”

“Where is she?”

A murder mystery they wonder,

as they see blood on the floor,

a perfectly unblemished trail

of dried drops of blood

that leads straight to the bathroom,

the artificial lights,

ugly and cheap.

                                                “Oh, my God–!”

“Sir, please step back–”

“She is my wife–!”

They find lovely Mrs. Carlisle

dead on the floor,

economical clothes clean and pristine,

nose dripping blood,

and a chilling smile

that even the hardest of men,

take a step back,

as a witnesses

a stunning death.

“…”

“We need an ambulance

At Lucky’s motel, Room Seven…”

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out / Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out / Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out / Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out / Change )

Connecting to %s

Kas Writes

From Photography to Poetry. From Tea to Travel. From late night study to Lifestyle. Follow me as I try spread positivity and love through words and pictures.

THE OBSESSIVE WRITER

Because life is too overrated to ignore

The Nerdy Lion

Lions can wear glasses too

A City On A Hill🌟

All For His Glory🌎☄🌟

Illenius

Words and poems written to express feelings.

sungkreebnapin's Blog

The greatest WordPress.com site in all the land!

JSLEFLORE

Writer ~ Entrepreneur ~ Photographer

Palm Tree Poetry

To be a dog under shadow of a tree

The Wanderlust Reader

"I'd rather die on an adventure than live standing still."

Exclusivito

Confessions of a book-traveller

Poets Album

You are the poem.

thecrimsonpoets

Life would be so simpler and real If I could be free from these customary Ideals

Lebana's Journal

I Dare You to Figure Me Out

The KG Experience

See the world the world through my eyes. Words is one of the greatest form of expression. Let the words of me and my friends move you..

D-pad Joy

PS4, XBO, Switch, PC and Mobile news, reviews, indie games and developers

Jalvis Quotes

Motivational & Inspirational Poems, Literature & Quotes Collection - By Vishal Dutia

%d bloggers like this: