Pop, pop, pop
The soundtrack of my life
Spark, spark, spark
The gunfire brings the light
It was fun, a game I always played
One more point for every life I take
Through shooting a man point blank, or planting the bomb the unsuspecting will have to face;
Either way I am spared another day.
But I would have done it anyway
Taken from my parents at birth
Training and training became my mission on Earth.
"I like the smooth touch of this gun,"
spoke my 5 year old self
And when I held it to his wrinkled head, I felt no shred of regret
But
But now...
Now words can't come close-
They can't-
Can't even begin to describe...
Faces.
Faces I remember.
Very well.
Too well.
Too damn well.
It's a physical pain, an old friend always there when you're alone.
She keeps you company, she's a tease.
Just when you think you'll forget, when you're finally done, she comes back, just to create a new slew of agony.
Faces I don't forget.
Every single one.
I didn't think twice, when I was young, it didn't bother me at night.
But now I'm older, wiser, and she is too.
She knows when I'm at my weakest, she knows when it takes just one more push to fling me off the edge.
But the devil's smart,
The b**** is cruel.
She waits, she'll leave me on the edge just so I can come back and she can shove me again.
And again.
And again.
Because it's always the faces,
That are the hardest to forget.