Those Thoughts

Sometimes I wonder if the barrel would even fit in my mouth.
Like one of those feeding tubes feeding you your views.
Without I doubt I think these thoughts daily,
Maybe it's because what you say I did to you.
What you say I do; viewed as a monster, a beast, a harlot,
I harvest these thoughts into a solid belief
Just to sink into the graveyard and go beneath.
I sometimes wonder what the metal tastes like; the led.
My head pounding and surrounding my eyeslids, the sight is dead.
I wonder if I left if you would tell me goodbye.
I wonder if I winked if you would smile or cry.
I wonder who would speak, what they'd wear,
What they think...
I wonder if you'd sit there knowing in disbelief.
The totality of reality pressing heavily like gravity
Is accessing your staggering realization of the tragedy.
Yes sweetie, it was you, but its fine.
Quite honestly it was just a matter of time.
A lingering fingering in my ears,
Bleeding from the beating of listening through the years.
These thoughts aren't pretty, and they are craftily refined.
You would never want to get trapped inside of this mind.
Unfortunately I am, on the other hand, I'm a man.
That's why I put up with it and avoid it all I can.
So I'm hitting head on; playing chicken with the devil.
Trying to relieve the stress from inside this vessel.
It's a test of time and a test of mind and a test of mine,
And as a testament to it, I will test the tides
And mesmerize eyes just to show I can do it.
Ill dance with the devil on a checkered bathroom disco dance floor.
Ill win back a life and never ask him for something more.
This I can promise, and this I will.
My hands will never be responsible for a kill.
It won't sign the contract, and it won't dot the book.
I wonder right after, just how I would look.