//sing and dance
this song of life//
I dreamt last night of a gun. It was black and cold and glossy and beautiful.
//dreams are dead
and hope has no wings//
I held it in my hand. I felt its weight, gripped it. It felt solid. It was real. I was real.
//try to fly away
fallen from the sky//
Nothing else mattered. The whole world spun around me. People were talking to me. But it didn't matter.
//sink deeper into this hole
you’ve dug for yourself//
The room spun. I was still. The gun was comfortable in my hand. I looked at it.
//the room's empty
echoes off the wall//
It all spun faster and faster. But I was still. The gun was still. The gun was there. It was dark and filled me with relief.
//nothing's here for you
why are you hanging on//
People were screaming at me. People were dying. I was in the center of it all. I looked at the gun. It was beautiful.
//if I should die
before I wake//
I woke up. The gun was there. It was black and cold and glossy and beautiful. I picked it up.
//I dreamt last night
I lived my dream//