they shout.
A collection of my closest friends
and confidants
implore, plead & demand
my index finger move
only inches to squeeze
the trigger of the pistol.

Pull the trigger!

My arms are quivering--
the chain smoking hasn't helped
steady the nerves.
I'm having trouble looking
at my victim.

Pull the trigger!

He's my best friend
but also destroyed whatever life I had
as he continues spiraling out of control.
I can't focus at work,
I'm afraid to go back to my own apartment--
letting him crash for a while was a bad idea.
My nerves are shot,
I'm emotionally drained...
I'd do anything to make it stop.

Pull the trigger!

They keep shouting in unison--
all  people I trust implicitly.
They've never steered me wrong before,
they sympathize,
can't stand to see him erode away
what's left of my life.

Pull the trigger!

They're right.
There's nothing I can do--
what choice is left?
My head vibrates
from their chanting
my eyes are watering a little--
thought I'd be sobbing.
A deep exhale...
quickly raising the gun
to his head--

Pull the trigger!

He's sobbing,
whimpering like a wounded *****.
When he looks at me,
I can tell he understands
and sympathizes with me.
I whisper,
"If you don't
get the help you need--
I'm going to do what they want."
After I holster the gun
to stunned silence,
I walk away...