"clik clik clik," whispered the dark

the night softened whir of metal hisses faintly

a faint song of metal sliding along metal sparks

and anxious sweating breaths whisper mutely

"is it my turn? is it yours?"

hot angry hands turn cold metal warm

each drunken brain dimly excited for a turn

"which shall we play, five or one," the barrel asks

"russian or hungarian, choose your poison. how exotic do you want to get?"

"what the hell, let's do them all"

euphorically inebriated minds cannot grasp

the implications of the words or the severity of the game

whir, clik, pull, bang, bang, bang

in quick succession, they fall

dark pools stain the cushions and antique rugs

red hot cartridges burn small holes where they land

clinking and rumbling as they roll across the floor

the smoking gun drops from senseless hands

chambers open, spent, and scarred

one last lush weaves in the corner, scrambling about

"bastards took them all, not one last hit, not one last bullet"

sobbing slightly he stumbles, grasping the burning gun

searing his hands, the gun disassembles, pieces scattering on the ground

numbly he chases them into dark corners before giving up

cursing, the lush snatches up a bottle and drinks himself into oblivion

the night progressed darkly into day

and then when sense returned to the lush

all the morning heard was screams

you never realize what you're doing when you're high or drunk. you're slowly killing yourself, edging closer and closer to death. and it's so sudden, but the only ones who suffer are the ones you leave behind. there are two standard forms of roulette, i believe it is russian and hungarian. you can either play with all but one chamber empty or all but one chamber full. in this poem, it's just a standard 6. but they decided to fill all the chambers. life is like filling all the chambers, no matter what you do, something will happen and you will be changed, realize it or not. and if you ever make it out of the dark part of your life and see the things you've done, you might just be horrified. sometimes you're forced out by means you deem unfair at the time. but maybe those things saved. you.. maybe.

i tried to capitalize the letters but it just killed the whole thing for me, so here it stands