A loaded gun
Held to her temple
Does she pull it?
She cocks the gun
Thoughts running through her mind.

She thinks of the pain,
The hitting and the hurt,
Of her mother’s rage

She thinks of the alcohol.
Pictures the drugs
Running through her father,
Slurring his speech.

Then she thinks of the girl
Crying silently in bed,
Head under the pillow
Begging god to make it stop
To make the pain go away.

She sees the girl,
The tears warm and stinging
Running down her face.

She sees herself.

Outside the lightning flashes
The thunder clashes
Like the booming of her parents
Fighting over and over.

She starts to shake
Shivers run through her
And the tears come once again

She hears her mother yelling,
This time as her little sister
She can see her standing there
In tears, not knowing what to do
The vision shakes her

She pictures her love,
The man who meant the world to her
Holding her close on the beach
Telling her it would all be okay

Then she pictures, what it must have been like
To see him cold and dead,
Covered in pools of crimson red blood,
Still streaming from the bullet he put in his head.
The bullet from the gun, she now holds in her hand


What does she do?
The gun is cocked
The trigger ready
Does she pull it?

She thinks one last time
Whispers I love you
And pulls the trigger

Nothing happens, the tears flow
She’s breaking apart, but it’s not over,
No blood is flowing, only salty tears

How is that?
She pulled the trigger,
She heard the bang
Looking down she opens the barrel
Blank!

She drops the gun in tears.
Then her little sister,
Runs up the stairs
Asking what the noise was

She puts her arms around her sister,
And they both cry
Because she knows,
The little girl knows,
And can feel her sister’s pain,

That night,
The little one,
Picks up the gun
Puts it to her own head
And pulls the trigger,

It goes off with a bang,
Waking up the rest,
This time there is no blank
Just a loud cry of pain,
And streams of blood.
As the little girl fades away.