That Night

She sat alone in her room that night,
Thinking back upon her life.
So often had she been hurt,
She had given up the fight.

The gun was in her hand,
The note by her side.
She held the metal to her head,
The look on her face empty and bland.

She took a breath and closed her eyes,
Before counting to three.
After which she took one more,
Cutting off the flow of mental cries.

She tightened her finger,
Pulling the trigger taut.
A tear rolled down her cheek,
As doubt flowed through her.

She shook her head one time,
To clear her jumbled thoughts,
And pulled the trigger tight,
Just then the clock began to chime.
She sat alone in her room that night,
Thinking back upon her life.
So often has she been hurt,
But she could make things right.

The gun had been loaded,
But the bullets were blank.
She had been spared by chance,
For reasons yet unfolded.

She looked out the window,
Marveling at the moon.
Instead of red or white,
It was a blue pure as snow.

Smiling to herself,
She tore up the note.
Walking toward the door,
She put the gun back on the shelf.

She walked to the living room,
And gave her mom a kiss.
Knowing she had a better life,
Knowing she wouldn't end it soon.