The guillotine

If you are going

to sever the head from my neck,

let my lifeblood spill

on dry, cracked soil, 

do me a courtesy. 

Don’t smile

and tell me how much weight

is being lifted from my shoulders. 

by Kara Rowan, The Hustle Horrors Series

For more information on The Hustle Horrors Series, click here.

This poem is a work of fiction. Names, characters, business, events, and incidents are the products of the author’s imagination. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, or actual events or companies is purely coincidental.