- 2019 -
Laying on top of the sheets
unwilling to move
unwilling to breathe
the gun is cold
but I don't want to let it go
Sometimes he is there
this time it's me
that pulls the trigger
and sometimes I die
and he begs me to stop
The gun is warm in my hand
but the sheets are cold
I think I watch him fall
but I can't tell
what's real anymore
YOU ARE READING
Denouement
Poetry...And a bow to mark her denouement. Everyone is at a different part of their journey, but sometimes a person's beginning can feel like the end. Know that, no matter who you are, you stand at the precipice of an amazing future. Dip your toes into th...
