Triggers Poem by Rylie Shoop

Why don't these thoughts ever leave my head?
What pulls the trigger to release all the memories I had sought to repress?
Who stands behind the gun?
Who wields the weapon which could easily end my life in a split second?
It hurts.
They come at the most unpredictable times.
They sneak up behind me.
They catch me off guard.
There's nothing I could possibly do to erase them.
They are here forever.
Eventually,
They'll be the death of me.
Who is holding the weapon?
Who carefully aims it straight towards me?
Myself.