• “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.
    It was the only thing I knew.
    Hungry, hammered, hated, whole-
    no, I didn’t feel whole.
    I need that left-out piece.

    Falling forever, while standing firm.
    Is this where the beginning ends?
    And where the end begins?
    Too many questions and not enough answers-
    BANG!