Submit your work, meet writers and drop the ads. Become a member
Mar 2019
Gun
I let my body be the gun
Shooting myself with silver bullets
Pulling the trigger with pleasure and joy
I find myself on the ground with thoughts keeping me down
and silence leaking out of me
I smell blood and metal
It slips away like time and day 
All what's left is biterness
And for a splitsecond I felt the pain
That one thing I was seeking for
Now I lay here still and dead
The numbness took the best of me
Floor
Written by
Floor  17/F
(17/F)   
183
 
Please log in to view and add comments on poems