Spinning the Gun
Sitting in black, cold metal on my fingers Vodka on my left, a body on my right. So much blood. Something is wrong. I don't know what is going on. My best friend. So much blood. Others cheer me on. I take another drink. I still feel the cold metal on my fingers. Now I feel warmth. I look at my fingers. They swirl in blurs of red. So much blood. Others cheer me on. There's just so much blood. I close my eyes and spin the gun. Written August 22nd, 2001 © on Aug 22 2001 02:27 PM PST, Katrina Armour 0 • 9 • 10
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"Sitting in black, cold metal on my fingers..."