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Dec 2016
It's cold.
The steel barrel in your mouth,
Settled against your parched tongue.
The weight of the gun in your hand,
Heavy, unbalanced, not like you'd imagined.
No matter...

The tears fail to form as you apply the force needed to operate the trigger of the gun.
The taste of sulfur and ash overwhelm your palate as the explosion in your mouth forms.
Then the flames incinerate the skin inside of your mouth, causing pain that is indescribable, incomprehensible, travelling to the back of your throat.

The bullet spins upwards, crashing into the roof of your mouth with more force than you've ever felt, carving its way upward into your sinus cavities, causing pulses of burning waves all throughout your head.

The shockwave of the gun firing reaches your ear drums, bursting them immediately as you lose your equilibrium, becoming disoriented as blood fills your ears, trickling out the side.

Up, up, up, the bullet goes. Your mind is thinking about your mother, your father... the years you've spent on this earth.
The loves you've had, so precious in your eyes, as they were the world to you. You want to think you have no regrets, but the last milliseconds have obviously shown that you do, that you couldn't cope with fixing them.

Finally, the bullet reaches your brain, and your vision flashes in colors, breaking up and fading in and out. You're very confused as to what's going on, the people you see in your mind as your head lurches back and you can't feel the reason why. Wait, who are you? What's going on...?

Why am I dead?

Because my cries stopped falling on deaf ears,
And started sounding with a mute voice.
Written 2 April 2016
Jack Jenkins
Written by
Jack Jenkins  28/M/Washington State
(28/M/Washington State)   
241
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