A Choice

I'm not quite sure what I want
A bullet to my head
Or a needle in my arm.

One kills my body
The other kills my soul
Both have suffered far too long.

I'll probably do neither
I'll lie here and try to convince myself
Better days will be coming soon.

I've been down this road before
I know the better days are a lie
If they even come, they are fleeting.

I'm an agnostic, sometimes atheist
But I'm also a hypocrite
Denying God exists in one breath and cursing him the next

I'm nothing but a hypocrite
Because I don't believe in heaven
But too scared to kill myself for a fear of hell.

Give me the needle
It worked better than any of the scrips
The so called professionals prescribed

At least then my life
Seemed to at least be tolerable
And there were actual moments of pleasure.

Maybe it's time to return to my religion
The holy symbols and tools
Of the plastic cross and metal spoon.

The drugs the body and the water the blood
With both parts of my Christ
In my veins I become whole.