Suction Gun

Inside these shaking hands
A gun that only sprays.
It soothes the broken man
With promises of better days.
But Im no fool, in fact
I've found this gun before.
It fades the world to black
And hides you, nothing more.
It wont change anything
Except what's inside you.
Nightmares become of Dreams
And shooting thoughts all you can do.
Soon all you are is shots,
Shot deep within yourself.
Shooting at relentless thoughts
Perpetuating your own Hell.
I'll find no peace with guns
That I shoot at myself.
I'd sooner try to run
From things that will not help.
Truer words you will not find,
Save, perhaps, from inside you.
If you, too, fight your mind
Dont fall for remedies untrue.
For shots fired at self
Could never help you mend
And even if you think it helps,
That suction gun is NOT your friend.