I sit here
Alone
And press it to my skin
My breathing slows
My eyes are closed
I feel the metal against my head
I apply pressure to the trigger
My breathing stops
I hear a click
I open my eyes
I beat the game
Luck on my side
Fake a smile
Put the gun up
And walk outside
Feeling no shame
Head held high
This is proof
Now is not my time
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem