The Gun

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The gun is smooth and cold.

Just as I am, numb and unfeeling.

I pick it up and run my clammy fingers over it.

The painful memories run through my head like a movie.

Black and white images flash through my brain.

You left me, after I gave you everything I could.

It still wasn't enough to make you stay.

I wasn't good enough anyway.

I place the gun to my head.

My fingers shaking, I squeeze the trigger.

I wanted this, it'll be better for both of us.

This is it.

I fall to the floor as the blood pours,

it is the end of me.

I wasn't good enough for you or anybody.

You won't even notice that I'm gone.

I love you until death do us part.

It won't be long now.

I feel the once precious life

dissapear from my body.

I take my final breath,

with you on my mind.

I hope you are happy.

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