Megan Apr 2

One.
You’ve been playing this every day since you stopped being happy.
Your chances are one in six but you haven’t fired,
ever, you waited for the right moment to play the game right.
There are rules in everything, you know,
and you’ve been waiting for this.

Two.
But now you’re doing it.
You’re drunk and you’re doing it, you resigned yourself to that
even before you picked up the bottle of vodka
and the gun.
You’ve come close a few times, to loading it,
but you just end up smoking a few cigarettes and telling yourself to
calm down; calm down.

Three.
Calm down.
Calm down.
Calm down.
You wouldn’t be doing this if you didn’t want it.
Calm down.
Calm down.
Calm down.
Think about cups of cold coffee and morning shifts at work.
Calm down.

Four.
You’re not calm.
Remember the everyday of sadness,
the restlessness; the loneliness,
the drives to the shops just to spend money just to do something just to get out of your room.
Calm down. You’re in your room.
Pull it like you’re used to it.

Five.

Six.
Are things better now that you’re dead?
Are you happier, wiser, more meaningful?
Are you calm?
Are you calm?
Are you calm?
Are you calm?
Are you calm?
Are you calm?

Anwaar Nov 2016

Arching back
a firm grip
upon a pen.

Eyelids flutter
as the voices
taking over
seep.

Possessed by
the maneuvering
demonic laughters.

Spinning still
they speak
while she
bleeds.

She is in pain
that solace
her mind.

so many voices wanting to be heard. my writings belong to someone unearthly. It is tiring.
Eloi Sep 2016

I inked my skin with your name,
As you swore you wouldn't play the game,
Russian roulette,
As good as you could get,
But there was someone who was better yet.

Spin the bottle,
Load up the gun,
And tell yourself  it's only a bit of fun.

The future can't be real,
If the deal is not sealed,
A debt you will pay,
For playing this game.

Spinning,
Spinning,
Round and round,
It lands on you as you bow your head to the ground.

Pick up the gun,
It's no longer fun,
Death is calling,
You're slowly falling.

Bang,
The shot was perfect,
Right through your skull,
As if It was worth it.

You fell to the floor,
I ran out of the door,
Never to return to our place we called "home".

It wasn't a game of roulette,
It was our series of events,
You killed yourself,
Due to the sadness that you felt.

So this is my spin on things,
I'll pour a glass and admit my sins,
Before I join in,
With your game of Russian roulette.

Eloi Jun 2016

I inked my skin with your name,
As you swore you wouldn't play the game,
Russian roulette,
As good as you could get,
But there was someone who was better yet.

Spin the bottle,
Load up the gun,
And tell yourself  it's only a bit of fun.

The future can't be real,
If the deal is not sealed,
A debt you will pay,
For playing this game.

Spinning,
Spinning,
Round and round,
It lands on you as you bow your head to the ground.

Pick up the gun,
It's no longer fun,
Death is calling,
You're slowly falling.

Bang,
The shot was perfect,
Right through your skull,
As if It was worth it.

You fell to the floor,
I ran out of the door,
Never to return to our place we called "home".

It wasn't a game of roulette,
It was our series of events,
You killed yourself,
Due to the sadness that you felt.

So this is my spin on things,
I'll pour a glass and admit my sins,
Before I join in,
With your game of Russian roulette.

A few of my poems explain about this same story,
But this is a different view of it, for me anyway.

I don't remember passing out
The barkeep nudged me twice
I'd been out at least an hour
My drink, it had no ice

He told me I was finished
He said "Boy, you are done"
"You're playing roulette with a pistol"
"With six bullets, not just one"

"There's a taxi on it's way boy"
I took in every word
But in truth, my head was spinning
What he said, I never heard

Way back in the corner
Sat two vultures watching me
The barkeep saw them watching
And he said "Son, the taxi's free"

"There's a cot just off the kitchen"
"If you'd rather stay inside"
"You won't throw up in the taxi"
"It saves me money for the ride"

I nodded I'd accept it
He told me, "good, I hoped you would"
"The way your night is going"
"It just won't end up good"

"You're burning both ends of the candle"
"You're lighting the middle part as well"
"You may think you're off to heaven"
"Drink like this, you'll end in hell"

He said "out back there is another"
"Fought the bottle, fought it hard"
"He was lost, but came back stronger"
"He's doing well, but he is scarred"

"Tomorrow, you'll eat breakfast"
"Go out back, and talk a bit"
"Now, off to bed directly"
"I need to think a bit, and sit"

I thanked him, though I mumbled
The words were clear inside my head
But, the words that I said to him
Made no sense, so....off to bed

The next morning, over coffee
He told me, "I've watched you every night"
"I've woken you before, you know"
"What you're doing isn't right"

I told him of my troubles
He shook his head, and said "so what"
"We all have troubles sometime"
"We make the best with what we've got"

"You can come here if you want to"
"But, if you drink, I'll cut you off"
"This is your only chance son"
He said the last line, through a cough

He said that after breakfast
After I'd done the washing up
I was to head out to the alley
With fresh coffee, in a cup

He said "out back there"
"You'll find a man with a guitar"
"Give him the fresh coffee"
"He won't come here inside the bar"

I went out in the alley
And there exactly as he said
Sat a man, singing to no one
With a old ball cap on his head

I listened as he sang out
A voice as harsh as glass and sand
Playing guitar in the sunshine
Keeping beat, a one man band

He finished, and he saw me
Smiled as he took the cup
He said, "You don't know me"
"But, I knew you'd look me up"

The Bluesman drank the coffee
Told me to sit and stay a spell
For each minute that I listened
Was one less I was in hell.

A round of musical chairs
But it's actually a game of Russian Roulette
What terrible luck you have!

craig apogee Jul 2015

this game of to and fro
ebb and flow
come and go
yes and no

its driving me to the depths of a sea of confusion
where i drown myself in doubt
blacking out and going towards a light
that appears to be unimaginably beautiful

so much so that i can't even recall it
a reality draped in a shroud of my own creation
a potential happiness that has been empowered
before it has even taken its true form

the empowerment of a blind emotion
much like russian roulette but with a dart in the chamber
which has either come straight from cupid's bow
or its dipped with poison of a familiar cardiotoxicity

it hasn't even happened yet and I feel the weight of your absence pressing on my chest

I've never been one for attachment and now I understand why

because to care too deeply is the emotional equivalent of Russian roulette

but this time they are all filled with bullets

and I seem to be winning this round

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