The Violence (like a poem thingy :P)  

Before you start reading i just want you to know that i enjoy writing about this stuff, but honestly i am not writing about my self in these writings.

The gun shakes in my hand, i begin to doubt myself. do i have to guts to pull the trigger? To kill those that have done wrong to me? Can I possibly live with myself? Why do i have thoughts about killing those that hurt me the most? My hands tense, and the trigger is pulled. The sound of the gun is unbearable. The screams begin to eat away at me. My stomach lurches and my head begins to spin. I fall to my knees, crying into my hands. Tears drip down my arms. Why most I be tortured? It is them that have done the wrong to me. They deserve this; it was what was meant to happen. Laughing at me, screaming at me, even yelling at me; do they honestly believe that I can't feel emotion or pain? My soul lurches, my heart begins to beat. Rage takes over my body, I am no longer human. I am something more? Or is this the adrenaline taking over? Darkness creeps around me, like a dark blanket, chilling, and killing me. I can no longer live with the pain, I turn the gun. Once again i begin to shake. Can i honestly take my own life? The thought no longer reins me, I have decided my fate and it shall stand. The last sound that the earth will hear from me is the sound of my body falling to the ground...dead....


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