Echo

February 17, 2016

I can feel you breathing your rancid breath down my neck

It smells of tormented souls

why is this so tempting

The gun is cold in my hand

I hear your evil cackle, "do it"

Trying to coax me to take your hand

I break down

I put the gun to my head

I hear your voice again and again, sweeter to my ears every time "do it"

When the cold barrel touches my forehead you go silent

I hear nothing, feel nothing

"Do it" you whisper, your icy claws grabbing for me,

And slowly the pressure on the trigger increases

That's how my life ends

Alone with a bright flash of light

Followed by the echo of my existence in the sound of gun fire

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