I see the barrel at the temple feel the nickel sized circle on the skin hear the loud last report after the trigger pulled
daily, this scene scrolls in the head a secret, e pluribus unum, one no other players read in their scripts
I don't write theirs, only mine, and they have their own clandestine plans, their own scenes at the edge of the abyss
sometimes, I see them fall, screaming, or silent until they land among the other bones
I don't know, I will never see that place with my eyes for I lack the courage to jump or squeeze the trigger
no I will find a way to sleep and never wake up, let others wonder what lines I read in my final hours hiding from the sun, or why I chose pills and potions instead of the gun