Enough

Walking into the house,

It brings back unwanted memories of my fucked up childhood.

The physical and emotional abuse you caused my brother and me.

I remember the day I snapped.

That was when I fucking had enough of you and your bullshit.

You were supposed to be our protector,

Not the one causing us pain.

While you were beating my brother,

I ran to the closet.

I knew where you kept the gun hidden.

I grabbed it and clicked the safety off.

I pointed it at you thinking 'Die you fucking bastard, die.'

I pulled the trigger over and over again and felt nothing for you.

Soon the bullets ran out.

Now you lay dead in a pool of your own blood.

That's what you get for fucking hurting my brother.

That's what you get for fucking ruining my life.