Gone Away

I used to have an angel, always hoverin' close enough to touch,

though I, often couldn't see, she always came around, when I was slippin',

becoming someone, I didn't want to be.

She would hold my hand, and whisper her sweet words, when I was,

on the verge, of falling into, that darkness, inside of me, hers was the hand,

keeping my finger, from the trigger, as I held that cold metal, in my lap,

hammer cocked back, and waiting, for decisions and meant to be's,

I looked down that barrel, and saw the world to come, I saw everything,

and the nothing waiting for me.

Almost empty chamber, spinning so, prettily, playing that game known,

simply as, russian roulette, laughing as the tears, burn my face, and the

emptiness within, watching the pretty metalic, gleaming rainbow, through

the tears, the only thing, I have left.

Spinning, spinning, everything comes to a stop, picking up, the final, of decisions,

circular impression, indenting forehead, closed eyes seeing futures, and asking

why, opened eye, looks into the end, wondering and hoping, to feel.

Closed eyes, imagining, creating, what happens next, blood spattered walls,

skull and brain strewed, everywhere, noise to startle neighbors, grief stricken,

blood covered, parents stuffing, shaking, doing their best to unmake, the

nightmare, in their hands, from the hole created, to ease the endless loss,

of a worn down, emptied, broken, soul.

My angel touched my heart again, made me feel something else, afterall,

magnum put back, onto my lap, feeling a faint sense of horror, even as I'm wishing, I could just slip away, so tired of never feeling, like I'm ever,

worth a damn, so tired of believing, in the people, who never make it,

worth the time, who never believe in themselves, or trust me at my word,

but most of all, tire of those, that never really try, to keep theirs.

My angel was always there, always, close enough to touch,

always near enough, I could breathe, and taste the scent of her,

when I needed her the most.

The years come, as often they do, but they also go, just like,

people too, the years, they came, and the, years they went,

just so often, like, people too.

One day I woke up, and I found, I couldn't remember, where she was,

or, where she went, I couldn't even tell you, when it was, that she did,

but sometime or another, she left me, all alone, and now the darkness,

is stirring, and my hope, is once again running, I have no hand to hold,

and there are no, sweet words being whispered, into my ears, anymore,

no light, to fill my darkness, and no lie I haven't heard, the darkness is

coming, and this time, its seeking blood.

The darkness, has, lain waiting.

The darkness, has gathered, all the bad, inside of me.

This time, there will be blood.

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