Would it be considered suicide
If I failed to see the truth
Or listen to friends time and again
That the gun in my hand was you

Who was it that purchased the bullets
Who spun the magazine
Who left the fatal shot in the chamber
Who caused this horrific scene

As it goes it doesn't much matter
The shot has already been fired
The end couldn't have come quickly enough
The hole straight through the heart

So I ask...

Would it be considered suicide
If I failed to see the truth
Or listen to friends time and again
That the gun in my hand was you

We'll paint
the world
pastel red
and sing
songs as
the world
falls apart.
       And I'll remind
you that
you're absolutely
beautiful when
we take our
last breaths
       And although
I was never
able to
write every
moment
and paint
every horizon
we've rested
our time upon.
      I'd like to
think that
I made you
the happiest you
could ever be.

Early to bed early to rise
More time to sleep
Less time to cry.
But sleep isn't peace
And peace isn't sleep
Because bed is the place
Nightmares come to me.
They haunt and they taunt
They whisper to me.
Show me the things
I beg not to see
Show me that I'm
What I plead not to be.
Take me away
And poison me gently,
On thousands of pillows
I lay there and suddenly
My mistakes fly over me
And cast me into calm
And then this calamity hits me
And I want to run
But its all so stunning,
So bright and obscure
That I get confused
And go out the wrong door.
What I thought was the way
To forgetting and home
Was the door leading into
My horror struck home.
The fire was leaping
And my sins pushed me out
I fell with a scream
That wouldn't come out.

How ironic it is
That we mutilate this earth
With the very substances
That bind it.

And how humorous we are
That we think
We can save ourselves
From us.

Tossing and turning
Heavy breathing,
Tears of frustration.

Screaming at my brain
To dismiss, erase, forget
All memories of you.

But it rebels
Like a stubborn teenager
It eyes me
In a huff, says,
"No!"
And proceeds to
Replay
Those moments
Over and over again.

My exasperation
Soon turns into
Sadness, despair, misery
Knowing that
It's all gone.

Forgetting you
Why can't it be easy?
Like how dried leaves
Are swept by the breeze
Into the river
And float away to
The point of no return.

Feeding myself
Thoughts of how
It's hopeless
Just doesn't work.