A Loaded Gun

Have you ever held a loaded gun?

Try it, it’s fun.

Kind of a sum

Of all the mistakes you've made

And the shit you've done.

That's a loaded gun.

It's metallic and electric,

Cold and eccentric,

Tastes like you want it;

You do. You don’t.

And you’re hurting,

And you’re ‘fine’,

But hold a gun,

And you're crossing a line.

A line so fine,

It can't be called a line.

It's just time.

Time to do the right thing,

To your teeth,

Back of your throat,

And your tongue.

You're done.

Done.

Put down the gun.

Poem by stealthisusername

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