It's my turn to go and reach that peace.
Death can only save me now.
There's no place to turn,
or go,
besides taking the easy way out.
But what if it's not my turn to go?
What if God's not ready for me yet?
I don't belong here.
I've been in the darkness for so long.
I don't know how to love,
and how to except it.
I erase the thoughts,
and continue on with my blood-thirsty procedure.
I leave the note,
written in my blood,
by my bedside.
I load the Revolver with instead of five,
four bullets.
Leaving an empty space,
in case I'm meant to stay here.
I place the gun on the floor,
before I lay down in the bath tub
and pull my long brown hair to one side,
and close my eyes.
It's too late to think of my value,
I tell myself.
I breathe in,
In and back out.
My heart races against the clock,
as I prepare myself
for complete darkness,
where I've always felt home.
I pick up the gun
and place the muzzle against my temple.
I spin the cylinder,
and put my finger on the trigger.
A single, warm tear
runs slowly down my face,
and then down my neck.
Will I ever see my reflection again?
Will I be able the enter that light?
My hands start to shake as I consider pulling it,
each second pulling me closer to my end
and final hour.
I'm sorry mom, I'm sorry dad.
I love you,
but I can't stay here.
I start to count,
respinning the cylinder each time,
5...
Spin
4...
Spin
3...
Spin
2...
Spin,
I hold my breath.
No time to think.
Just pull it...
1...
Game over.
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125,006 Literary Works • 672,811 Reviews
Tori1234....yes it is
its like reverse russian roulette. Like, the version you play when you are by yourself. I'd take out the things that are cliche, the things like "a single tear rolls down my cheek." No one wants to read stuff like that. Also, "game over" is a very weak place to end.
If you are intent on writing a poem about Russian Roulette (kind of cliche on its own), then I'd suggest doing some research, using some specific details, and maybe mentioning quantum immortality. Now that would be interesting.
Isn't Russian Roulette a song by Rhianna?
Hello there!
As a slight note, I believe Russian roulette is actually played with a single bullet, rather than one bullet not being used.
I hope this isn't too rough of a review on you. I would love to say something good, but it's terrible hard to find that good thing to say at certain times. The essential problem with this poem is that it's too focused on itself. I don't know what's going on with the speaker. Why does she/he want to kill her/himself? What would cause this person to be driven to such a thing? You also write this in a bit bland, story-like language. Now, story-language can be beautiful as well, but this poem as it is lacks poetic language that could give it so much emotional strength. You bring up a great conflict with the question of whether this person should die or not, which is your use of Russian roulette, but you never really develop it fully or to much of a thematic point since you end the poem in "Game over" which I also think is a rather cliché ending.
Sorry to be so rough on this, but I couldn't much think of anything else. I'd say a good place to begin with editing is to think about what you want to make the reader feel, and think more about why the speaker feels this way. Try to make the reader feel it, too, by what you write.
Best of luck!