Black Hole
I push two fingers against my temple
cocking my thumb back, wishing it was a gun
wishing so hard, I become the bullet.
I pull the trigger and fly down the barrel
colliding with myself, imploding into
paradox my eternal soul becomes
oblivion, the true death for a God.
Finally eternity has lost its sting.
Endless memories will haunt me no more;
numberless days of pain cease to be.
Friends, family, love, no longer exist.
Did they ever really exist at all,
and could I have done this to everyone?
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