Looking down the barrel
I could see the grooves.. plain as day
blued steel
and the eyes behind it
amused
careless
reptillian
they still wake me up
I could see the finger on the trigger
some touches of rust told me.. it wasn't well cared for
and the flat eyes
that told me I was dead
Living and dying are a twitch apart sometimes
sometimes
if you live
that barrel and those eyes come visiting at night