Heaven to me is any place that we can be together
That is not here in Baker Street, not London, not England
Not any place on this Earth whilst she is alive
Yet perhaps in death I shall be granted the privilege
Of being allowed to love you
The barrel is cold against my temple
And I am distracted for a moment
I know that there are easier ways to die
But they will not do
I need to do this;
Only my blood and my brains blown across my room will show Watson
Make him see exactly how much I needed him
How much I object his marriage
How much it hurts when he doesn't listen to me tell him this
My finger tightens minutely
And I hear his scream
A hoarse cry of my name from the door way
I smile.
My unconscious mind has granted me this
A last gift
The pretence that he had cared
I shall carry that with me wherever I may go from here
I pull the trigger the rest of the way
I hear the bang,
And he is gone.