A Lost and Found Poem

When I was reorganizing my blog posts, I found a poem on Blogger that I did not post. I believe I know why it was not posted. This is a very personal poem about dealing with habitual sin and I was not ready to be this personal in public. This is still hard for me to post this. But I am trying to be person who does not leave things undone and be able to move past this poem on to other poems. Sometimes we can’t move forward until we have completed what was left undone.

Gun in My Mouth

Every Morning I wake up
With a gun in my mouth
Proceed to walk around
As nothing happened.
30 sec. pass… BANG!
All through the day… BANG!
All through the night… BANG!
With no relief in sight.

I want to pull it out
And fire upon the demons
That mock me.
But alas nothing I do works.

Books tell me:
“Fix the outside then
The inside will be fixed.”
But I turn into
A White Washed Tomb

I walk around
Most not knowing
About the Gun.
Even when it goes
Off right by them.

I put on a mask
So no one
And that’s what
I hate the most.
For I lose the ability
To be real with people.

I even grow to think
Most people don’t care.
Thats why the gun and
The darkness
Always return.

Thus I am caught in Limbo…
And always return to the darkness
For it is an old friend
The only one who seems to be there.

I think maybe
Finding that
Will remove the gun.
That someone is

But I know this is false.
For it and they have been
He has the ability to pull
The gun out but this is
And thus I continue with
The gun in my mouth… bang.

I ask myself:
I have grown
Numb to the gun?
For just like every pain
Eventually it becomes
A normal part of life.

And that’s what scares
Me the most.
That eventually I won’t
Even know the gun is there.
Thus I must remember
The gun.
Or It can never be removed…


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