Prose

Pull the trigger

Close your eyes and tell me what you see. Is that the darkness or the dark shadows of all your unfulfilled desires, all the persecutors of your conscience? Every answer is behind closed eyes. Squeeze them harder, allow it to hurt you, count to ten, then keep watching the darkness. Which details you’ll remember and which you’ll ignore to notice, just because they’re too present, creating a real picture? It’s warm when you put the cold gun on a place where your heart beats fast, but it’s freezing when it beats backward. Do you sweat from all the difficulties you created? These dumplings you swallow will burn your throat. Isn’t it already drained of all the toxic words you can’t say, but they’re still here, already stinging the burnt flesh? If you’re afraid of your own life, pull the trigger then! You’re barely breathing and losing breath, but who’s taking it from you now? You can’t say goodbye to yourself because you have no one to tell you’re leaving, yet you had everything. Hold that gun steadily and confidently then. Tell yourself it’s time to disappear and do it. You start falling apart. Why? Because you’re holding a weapon for the first time, or because you’re standing in front of a mirror? Are you trying to make a stronger impression on life or the mirror is too dirty to see yourself as you are? A fever that never passes or maybe it’s just a hope that says you can change.

Do you already think about what will people say? How will those who you forgot that exist react to that? You’re thinking about some fresh air and how you’re going to miss it? Come to your senses! You’re not breathing if you want to take away the reasons to breathe the air. You’re so wonderful while watching people, and your willingness to kill for someone shows what kind of person you are. That way you’ll only kill yourself, being so small and insignificant. You made yourself that. Being a man with a big heart, you put a gun on your heart and choose to shrink even more. That heart is what led you to this crucial moment, right? Heart or mind? Think twice. If someone were you, they would’ve fixed that hand next to their head. Shoot your head, don’t blame your heart. What are you waiting for? Wasn’t that your idea? Isn’t this life worth anything? You’re going to waste that shot, you’re in a mat position. Heavy gun? The decision is even havier. You have a hole in your heart, you have a hole in your head. Where are you going to shoot? What are you going to kill? Yourself or your own mistakes? What repeats a gun? Tell me. It’s not you, but are you? You brought yourself here on your own, so get yourself out. Don’t kneel in front of the mirror, kneel where you should. Either pull the trigger immediately or throw it. Pick up parts of your mind that aren’t worthy of such a defiled mind, and change yourself. Next time I will not be the voice in your head, next time I will be your bullet.

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