Something or nothing.

[1_21Guns]

I'm a little rusty, but I felt like writing something.

I’m sure those cans look ever so lovely,
lined up like bullets knocking away at your life expectancy.
You can’t help yourself but pull the trigger,
night after night your grave just keeps getting bigger.

All she wanted was for you to hold up your hands,
admit you were sick, and lay down the cans.
Yet all you could do was continue with your self destruction,
your whole life is just one big obstruction.

You lump down your burdens wherever you can lay your head,
all she knows is you made her wish she was dead.
Your child, your own flesh and blood destroyed,
her eyes becoming nothing more than a darkening void.

Oh will this nightmare ever end?
Why do you even try, we all know it’s just pretend.
Your lies run deep, yet her hate for you runs deeper still,
why oh why isn’t there some magic pill.

“Take this pain away please,” she begs.
She’s bored of making patterns on her pretty little legs.
One last night of this worthless endeavour,
once she’s dead those monsters won’t feel so clever.