Blind

Vision has left me.

I can no longer see the light.

My hands move on their own,
  sensing my dark wishes.

Caressing the metal.

Stroking the barrel.

Light touch on the trigger.

Tears leave me blind.

Hands know what to do.

They set down my doom.

They reach up.

They wipe away the tears.

They hold my head,
  and try to help me see the light.

Reviews

[Ruth]

Powerful...
Is the end the light, or the mechanism we choose to enter that end, a bringer of light?
Thought provoking xox

[Jon Roggie]

I realized when I wrote this, it was a touchy subject. Painful to write. I draw from experience, and unfortunately this was one. Decade later, memories are still very clear. Thanks Poppy.

[Ruth]

Most welcome xox