The Trajectory of Jared Lee Loughner

When I see this man,
His face a gun pointed,
Pointed at me,
I feel the point of impact:
Blood drains;
Ice cold fear is pumped to the exit wound.

When I see this man,
Bullet eyes formed into casings,
Finger twitching between good and evil,
Schizophrenic, delusional, chasm born,
I see him no longer seeing me.
Devoid of me, the other,
The visage of reality is destroyed at gunpoint.

© Sally Paradise, 2011, All Rights Reserved