When the Therapy stops working and
When the words begin to mean nothing
When your heart cannot simply beat with rhythm
There is only one last shot
And that’s the bullet across the table awaiting pronunciation into the thick dark abyss of the human mind.

As you sit in that chair
Watching the screen slide past old memories
So much pain in one simple picture
Talking to others on your phone believing that if you died tomorrow, would they ever come visit your grave?
We both know the answer
We both know what your mind says
We both know what your heart says
But, we both know what the real problem is
It’s sitting right next to you.

Looking at the teal hollow carcass
Looking at what all memories it had left
Looking at the emotional scars on it's back
Looking at the incomplete expiration date
Looking at all the empty voids of untruthfulness
Looking at what could have been
Looking at pain like she is right in front of you
Looking once more.

When did I become the enemy?
Knowing the wrong part of my brain undergoing a reality check
Getting home at 4 A.M and treating everything with evil intent
Not realizing that the guidance I needed was laying one wall over
Coming back after months of remembrance and reality becoming reality
Only to be treated and remembered as the next piece of trash to be thrown away
The lies and misconception that toxic organisms can have on a soul
Weighs so heavy to the point of a loaded gun against the bone.

The sound of the motor wants to scream
But refuses to yell until emotions come to reality
Body sweating with anticipation
Wanting to make her plead with regret
Once the decision is made to make her bleed
You quickly realize that the cold cold concrete
Is the last breath you'll both take together