Categories > Original > Poetry0 Reviews
Uhhh.... what's this? It's a crap poem thingy inpsired by an Irvine Welsh short story, silly!!!!
Your eyes widen, your muscles freeze.
Your blood turns cold as does your sweat.
Droplets of ice cascade down your statue like face.
They drench the hair at your temples.
If life and death could be but a figment of our imagination, what do you have to fear?
What are you scared of?
Pull the trigger.
Combustible materials react to the ignition.
As the revolver spins and adjusts, the bullet is already flying.
And before you have time to blink, it has already pierced your flesh.
Nothing to worry about.