They’d never know how dead she was inside,
Already a corpse, though her heart still beat.
She’d offer smiles, but had always lied.
The thought of death was her secret retreat.
Consumed by despair in sight of a gun,
She grabbed a pen, and wrote them a letter.
“It is damnation that I can’t outrun,
Perhaps in death I’ll feel much better,
I don’t ask forgiveness, nor for your tears.
Believe that I search for deliverance,
Know that I’m free after all of these years,
That I’ve finally beat my temperance.”
She signed it with love, thought it’d be bigger-
The note she’d leave if she’d pulled the trigger.