Sometimes I sit here and wonder why do I look down the barrel of a loaded gun instead of pulling the trigger and letting every thought and feeling pour onto the ground and the wall as I lay in its puddle
Maybe it's because I see life at the bottom of the barrel and with one squeeze of the transparency trigger,
I can begin my new life
I can begin my new life under a new name, in a new home that's only big enough for me
I wouldn't have any bills and I wouldn't have to worry about upsetting anyone because nobody would ever know who I am or who I was but what they will know is that they met a man who grew tired of life and wanted to be left alone
They had met a man who could never be vulnerable enough to act on his emotion and tried his hardest to make everyone happy but the more he did that the more sad and depressed he became
On the outside he's sane but on the inside he's going in
I stare down the barrel of a gun and I see a man who wanted nothing more than to smile and be happy but took the world and carried it on his shoulders because that's what he thought he had to do
I sit with this gun in my hand and I cry more tears than I've cried every time I've disappointed someone or did them wrong and I do my best to fix every situation but then I realize that,
It's me!
I'm the problem!
I'm not what people want me to be!
I stand my ground until I get torn to shreds and unable to pick myself up again
I beg and beg for people not to leave but nobody hears my cry for help and because I'm a man,
Wearing my heart on my sleeve is a disgrace and I should shut up and be happy that I can provide, give, and protect anyone that needs it because that's what a man is supposed to be
I'm loved under the conditions that I can provide and protect
I'm unloved if I show emotion and any bit of sadness
I get laughed at for telling people my dreams and aspirations and I try to be my definition of a man but my definition of a man is a PUNKASS BITCH, in the eyes of everyone else
Contrary to belief,
I'm not a fearful man and I'm not afraid of death but I'm afraid of life and the capability I have for hurting other people
They look at me and see a monster
They look at me as a quiet and old soul that'll murder anyone that puts their hands on me but actually,
I'll let them kill me because mentally they already have
This isn't just a sad poem,
This is real life
This isn't just something that I decided to write because I was bored,
THIS IS REAL LIFE!
THIS IS MY LIFE!
I cry when I'm alone and wipe my eyes when there's nobody around because this is my life and it's too late to change it
Who loves me unconditionally?
Who will cry when I die and they can't see me anymore?
They'll cry for a minute but they'll switch to how good the food was after my funeral service
They'll make facebook posts about me and say they love me while eventually forgetting that I was even alive
Who will love me when it's all said and done?
And yet,
I'm still looking down the barrel of this loaded gun and I haven't pulled the trigger,
But,
I will

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