The silver gun rests on my tongue. It feels so right but taste's so wrong . I feel my finger tremble as the trigger and him debate. An argument of past regrets, a future that awaits. I stop to pause and think is this how it ends. To stop the pain and suffering, and my life of just pretend. A life without love to be showered in or shared. I have nothing to offer you but this burden that I bear. DONT TRY TO STOP ME AND FILL ME WITH YOUR LIES! For every false you tell me another piece of me dies. With all my hope lost and a pain that increases. The trigger is pulled and my body goes cold, escaping a world of hatred and disease.
