Trigger Poem by Shelby Marie Peters

Not a day goes by
That I don't think
About what I've done...
What he did...
What they did to me...

Not a second goes by
That I dont struggle
With wanting to pull that trigger...
To give up...
To say 'I quit..'

Sometimes I think it's my own fault
I tell myself 'Why didn't you say no!
Why didn't you make them quit? ! '
But the answer doesn't come
At least not just yet...

With the Gentleness of the wind
Yet the swiftness of innocence lost..
I remember I was 5...
6..
7/8...
each time it happened
and each time... I cry..

But does age really matter../
Could it still be my fault?

The question never ends
The struggle never stops...

Once again I struggle
I gently lift this gun
Should I pull the trigger
Or should I dropp it and run...

Should I wait and see what waits in the
Wings/grips of tomorrow
Maybe it will get brighter...
Most likely even darker...

But then again
Nothing compares to this...

Not another day goes by
'Til they finally find her there
This time she chose to die...
And the gun's still in her hair...
(her pain etched in the air)