One finger is all it takes
To shoot a gun, loaded
With the tiniest bullet in the world.
The kind of ammunition that kills –
Slowly.
It latches onto your skin,
Seeping in, unseen and invisible
Spreading to your bones, your veins
Diffusing into your bloodstream,
Undetected until the blood pours out.

I’m staring directly into the barrel,
At the point where I see nothing
And though I can’t see inside,
I can see into the future.
Where I can see that a single finger –
Even the smallest one –
Is strong enough to pull the trigger.
The gun is cocked, ready to be shot
And the one thing that is holding it back
Is a mystery.