The cold, lonesome pistol lay in the dresser drawer
Sadness rolled in, like bullets under the door
The **** turned like it had a thousand times before
An old, familiar creak rose from the weathered floor
Harsh words pushing forward like a bitter winter's wind
Shaky hands open the drawer and put the bullets in
Eyes wide
Heart racing
Feeling alive
Despite facing
The very thing
That brings relief
No second thoughts
Gone in a blink