So wrong...what's right?

I held the plastic in my hand,
wishing it were real.
The weight was wrong, the color was wrong,
but the shape...oh the shape.
Bitter tears hide behind my lids,
daring me to let them loose.
I think of all I have, and all I don't have...
and all I want.
I know it's not right to want what I don't have,
to treasure what I do.
Sometimes, though, sometimes...the love isn't enough.
The heartbreak is too strong.
I stare at the plastic on the desk,
glad it isn't real.
The heartache I have is nothing
compared to the heartache I would cause...
If I ended my life with a gun.

AEM - 1999

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