i will sketch myself a gun
and load it
with toxic lead scrawled neatly, letters looping like a noose,
with scratches on chalkboards, like footprints on the moon
        and scars on my wrist.
i will give these words the power to ****
    and with one last remaining breath
       i'll place it against the fire, beating in my temples
and words and letters and music
  will flow,
    into me and out of me
an endless whisper
   of poems
   surging through my veins.


and all will at last be dark.

*-j.s