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Rated: 13+ · Poetry · Death · #1288735
Angst at its greatest form: a short poem with only a few lines.
I load the gun with hatred of the things i fear,
and i pull the safety back...
i find the barrel at my head,
and soon the bullet leaves a bloody mess,
of all the things i cannot erase from my past.....
© Copyright 2007 Cecilia Molone (cecimolo16 at Writing.Com). All rights reserved.
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Printed from https://writing.com/main/view_item/item_id/1288735-Bloody-Mess