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