Hold me, it practically said.
The pistol was my best worst enemy.
On the other hand,
it wanted to be held,
like a newborn baby.
Shoving it away did no good.
I was the only thing it knew.
Hungry, hammered, hated, whole-
no, I didnt feel whole.
I need that left-out piece.
Falling forever, while standing firm.
Is this where the beginning end?
And where then end begins?
Too many questions and not enough answers-
BANG!














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