Giving up
By Sharon Maria Moemise
Feeling the cold, hard steel betwixt my fingers
the smell of cordite in the air lingers
I close my eyes, shutting them tight
Should I? Could I? Who wins this fight?
Why does pain feel so at home in my life
Muddling my senses, cutting like a knife,
Always on the doorstep of my sanity
Fighting to remove all traces of humanity
I try to remember the cause of my breakdown
I wrestle my thoughts from a seed already sown
Is it worth it to cut my life\'s memories so short
My existence, my soul, threatening to abort
I feel the cold, hard steel betwixt my fingers
The smell of cordite in the air lingers
I close my eyes against the glare of the sun
then unwind my fingers to toss away the gun