Comfort Knowing It Doesn't Hurt

There's a gun pressed to my temple
So old it doesn't work
But it still gives me comfort
Knowing that it wouldn't hurt
Please keep your tears and save your blame
And make certain that you know
None of this was your fault
It is just how these things go
And if the clock makes its decision
If we run out of time
If the switch is flipped, and I finish this
You'd be the last thing on my mind.

Gravity Journal: 193