When you want to die,
What keeps you alive?
What keeps you from the oblivion?
From the intoxicating black?
I used to fall into that black.
It would consume me
And eat away at who I was.
So why am I here?
Why did I not drown in that black and suffocate on all the injustices of this world?
So few things have kept me here.
It used to be nothing at all.
I had no reason to get up or try,
I just did.
Then I met a girl.
A girl who died long before we crossed paths.
But she was there,
Looking at me and caring.
I know she is there,
She has to be.
And then,
What if I died and was a disappointment to her?
What if she didn't think I deserved to know her anymore.
She saved me.
So I must live a life to satisfy her.
Then,
I shot a gun.
I had never really liked guns.
Just hitting the target.
The sound of bullseyes would echo thorough my empty self and leave me yearning for another.
How would I feel if I couldn't do that anymore?
I can't face a reality like that.
Then I met a boy.
Don't worry, this one still lives.
And he was just a regular boy
Until he did something extraordinary.
He made me fall in love.
Not a raging and burning lust filled love.
Not one that would spur on the epics tales for millennia to come.
Not a love that would inspire hate.
But a quiet one.
A small contentment that makes me feels a little bit of happiness.
It's so hard to find happiness nowadays.
He made me fall in love with him.
And what would I be without my little calm love?
I couldn't live without it.
So that is why I'm alive today.
Because of
A dead girl,
A gun,
And a little love.
