<< Stubborn Weed >>
May 18, 2004, 1:28 p.m.

Here it is, the gun you hid five years ago. This is the gun you loathed for it gave you little power. Your purpose never went as planned because this weapon never fired at the correct time.

Do you remember how you used to clean it every night? A white towel stretched over your lap, the gun in your left hand, and a shoe polish stick in your right. You treasured the details, the scratches, the black silk shine, but this firearm never admired you.

You still keep the bullets behind your pillow, praying that they would give your gun the courage to "blow a load." These glistening, miniature rockets just waiting to penetrate any sort of flesh, perhaps even begging to enter your own.

Is your memory in tact? For your temple hasn't quite healed yet. Take yourself to the flashback of when you were at your greatest moment, life welling up in the corner of your eye, and you had a plan that would outlast history. Remember how you admired your reflection in the barrel of the gun? Your thoughts twisted with anticipation, questioning which position you would end yourself. Such a steady hand you had,for most people, they are too frightened to off themselves with one clean shot. But you were different because you were numb.

The act of killing yourself wasn't as tragic as most would ponder, for you were dead long ago, and this final act was only writing your conclusion.

Unfortunately, your steady hand was not enough. And five years ago, right index finger on the trigger, pressed gently to the right temple, the gun fired into your skull, and you dropped from the rocking chair into a heavy body bag.

This body bag never zipped, for the paramedics found a heartbeat and a breath. And here you are in the same place, your right hemisphere damaged, but not enough. A metal plate where the bullet plowed, and half your face in a constant droop.

You, staring at the object shaped as your destroyer, it mocking you, and now you can't finish your story until therapy is done, when your hand will have enough strength to pull the trigger again.

<< Pacing >>


Papercut | Molding | The List | Breaking Linguistics | Mirror| Delusion Fade
Conform
Email | Your Mark | Bleed | Your Mother | Thumbnail | Feast | Designer