Before the end of a gun is pressed to my head

and a bullet crushes through my dread

my life will be less meaningful

without knowledge of it

To understand the battle in my brain

think of it as a game

jump scares called anxiety

and a conscious rioting

The pain i release deafens ears

and is silent enough to not hear

a cry of doubt and emotion

a cry of hell and screams

In an over lapse of time

i will surely get what's mine

a bullet to the head

a brain full of dread