Contemplating

Sometimes I hold a bullet in my hand,

Contemplating. 

Whats stopping me?

Sometimes I grip the steering wheel,

Contemplating.

I can’t control these thoughts.

They consume me.

I look at everything and wonder how it could be used,

An extension cord, the glass in a frame.

Everyday items full of unintentional despair.

Sometimes I load the bullet 

Contemplating.

What should scare me brings comfort,

Hope.

A dark sense of relief.

How did I get here?

What has crawled into my mind and destroyed me?

Sometimes I press the gun against my head,

Contemplating. 

One simple motion and I could be free.

It’s inevitable anyway.

Why wait?

Someday I’ll put my finger on the trigger

And stop contemplating....