She sits, thinking about
her life\'s mistakes
thoughts cross her head
morbid and painful
sorrowful and scared
she stands, gun in hand,
aims, breathes, fires,
and hits a light across the room,
sparks flying
and with a feral look in her eyes
she throws her head back and screams
hurling her gun through a broken window;
almost as broken as her heart
she collapses, sobbing uncontrollably
and curls into a pathetic heap,
staying that way for hours on end.
Sometime the next day
she finds the strength to stand,
and as she rises ever doubt
every worry and every pain
she had once felt slips to the floor
as she walks away from it