When It Stops

by Holly Day

three thousand miles ago you held my hand
while I held a revolver to your crotch and you said
"Lower the hammer slowly, slowly. Come on!
You've got to learn gun safety one way or another."
drunk, I managed to do it, once,
and then the next day, straight sober,
I blew a hole through my couch.

you almost replaced
all the triggers in my life
brother, father,
lover, best friend
taught me the scripture of new razor blades
amphetamines instead of suicide notes.
It all helped.

those voices you killed have come back to life
possessing the gun buried deep in my closet
singing crazygirl songs
on insomniac nights--
three thousand miles ago you patched up my heart
if I went back to you
could we make these dreams

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