Fingers pale and translucent,
Pull the trigger with my eyes closed and smile,
What does it matter,
To be with her she said,
At night I can feel it above me like a spell,
Lingering,
It follows me everywhere, always,
And I can't seem to get rid of it,
When will it go away?
When I pull the trigger with my eyes closed,
Smile.
YOU ARE READING
My Poetry Journal
PoetryThis turned out to actually be something I like, I write in here a lot and I'm thinking about making it an actual collection of poetry.
