Alive?

A Poem by Kris Jansen

Legs shaking.
Arms flat.
Back straight.
Head up.
Eyes crying..
My clothing surrounds me.
All around me.
My skin is cold.
My mind is scared.
And I see the world in all its hate.
I stand here in the darkness,
Wearing nothing.
I see nothing.
Nothing but a pistol.
Shining in the moonlight,
Pointed between my eyes.
As I stare down this barrel,
I see the eyes of death.
And as I look up,
I see the eyes of my killer.
Why am I begging for my life?
But more importantly,
Why did it work?
I walk away alive.
But I walk away with nothing.
I feel like a hollow shell.
No more fear,
Only sickness.
Simply empty.