A swift move against the trigger...

My head tells me to stop,
My stomach churns,
My heart races,
My face is red,
My body shakes,
Yet my impulse hasn't stopped,
My objective hasn't been cropped,
My feet are still walking,
My voices still talking...
With one hasty move,
The trigger has been pulled,
The blood has jettisoned across my bedroom.
I have no body,
I have no love,
I have no voices,
I have no hunger,
I have no thought,
I have no goal,
I have nothing now.

This story is supposed to press the fact that there is no light on the other end after suicide.