Under The Gun Poem by Alexis Weiermann

As I sit here
With this cold gun
In my hand
Finger on the triger
Against my right temple

I know that I'm not thinking
I know that my life could be better,
But it could also be worse.

I can't seem to move though
The only thought going through my head is
'Pull the triger.
Pull the triger..
Pull the triger! '

Over and over again
I say it to myself so many times I want to.
I've always wanted to,
But I've never done it.

You've always been there,
But only to save me.
At times I wish you wouldn't.

Like now.
I want my finger to just move a centimeter
But it wont.
My brain wont make it.

It knows the concequences,
My body doesn't.

So as I sit here
Under the gun
You walk up
Your yelling at me to put the gun down.
I don't.
Your voice slowly becomes calmer.
You realize that yelling will only encourage me.

You sit down next to me,
Pull a gun out of your pocket
And press it next to your right temple
Just like me.

I come out of my trance.
I tell you to put the gun down.
You tell me
'Only if you do'
But I can't.
I've always wanted to pull the triger.
But you've never pulled this stunt before.
I slowly remove the gun,

I'm no longer under the gun physically
But mentally I will always be under the gun.
I know that I can always choose death over life.

You wrap me up in your arms,
You whisper three words to me,
'I love you.'
All I can say back is
'I know.'

I realized that as I sat there under the gun,
Somebody does love me...
More than I could ever imagine.