I have a gun in my hand.
It is aimed at my head.
My finger is on the trigger.
I pull the trigger.
The bullet is freed.
A demon.
It penetrates my skull.
It explodes.
My brain is pierced.
My body goes through shocks.
My brain is splattered
all over the
wall.
Blood drenches everything.
Everything.
Are you happy now?
Are you relieved?
You bastards.
You murderers.
It is you who kill me.
Yes, you.
It is always you,
always you
that kill me.
You shove me into a corner.
You thrust a gun in my hand.
Then you watch me,
as I helplessly pull
the trigger,
as I have been trained to do
all my life.
All my life.
You watch.
You watch.
And
then you feign
innocence.