Highway Option

I suppose I'm supposed to just pick up all the happy things

And move on with my life. 

I've healed to the point of shallow scars.

It'd be easier if I turned in my resignation

And took a to-go bag. 

I know what it could do for me.

I know every joy I would gain. 

Except, bub, we'd never talk, 

And, darling, you'd be long gone.

You see, I'm aware the gun is ready to fire. 

My love is the finger on the trigger

I am sometimes tempted to pull.