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May 2017
Jack and Jill went up the hill
Tires, fast, pebbles flying into the night air, unaware of what's to come.
To fetch a pail of Water
Clear liquid, sizzling, burning as it rushes down the throat as if it were going out of style, hot as the poker that burns his insides and sears his thoughts.
Thoughts that buzzed around his brain and stuck like knives in flesh.
One Sip, Two Sip, Red Blood, Blue Veins. Just Pull the trigger.
Jack fell down and broke his crown
Sirens, one am,
MY SON MY SON MY SON MY SON JACK
And Jill came tumbling after.

Up Jack got, and home did trot
Blurry faces, a crowd, the cries, the silent sobs, the mourning, the miss you's, the goodbyes.
As fast as he could caper
Classmates. Too young. A loss. A tragedy. The boss up above was not enough to dissuade this young boy. Crossed the boarder, shooting range, gun in back, bottle in hand.
To old Dame Dob, who patched his ***
Wood. Dark wood, Red wood, Light wood, nails, *****, pound the hammer in BAM BAM BAM BAM BAM. Fates sealed, game over.
With vinegar and brown paper
Paper. A picture in the year book. A face, a name, another dead body. Crossed the boarder, shooting range, gun in back, bottle in hand. One Sip, Two Sip, Red Blood, Blue Veins, Stabbing thoughts, falling, break his crown, go up the hill, sit under the tree. smash the bottle.
Just pull the trigger. Bang.
Gunner
Written by
Gunner  18/Cisgender Female/In Your Trashcan
(18/Cisgender Female/In Your Trashcan)   
449
 
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