Pull the trigger

I shot a gun today,
held it
felt its weight
felt its power
and I pulled the trigger.

You say it’s for protection?
To protect those you love,
against those who misuse these weapons?
But who needs such a powerful weapon for protection?
Why would you put a gun in a home?
A home with young kids,
teens with depression,
and your spouse?

You say it’s for fun?
Shooting cans of soda,
teaching your kids to do the same.
Is it a sport to you? A game?
Playing with a weapon of life and death.

You see it in movies?
Used by everyone?
Freely, easily?
But movies don’t actually show
the pain you feel
when you pull the trigger.

I pulled the trigger.
I felt the pain.

You say it’s not the weapon, it’s the person?
I've felt it.
I think I'm a good person.
Yet I don't think I should wield such power.
Should anyone?
It’s too powerful. Too volatile.
Sometimes is doesn’t matter the person
Sometimes the weapon is too much.

One wrong aim,
one misfire,
one mistake.
That’s all it takes.
You say it’s for hunting?
Why do you need to own a gun then?
Why do you need to take that risk,
just to kill an animal?
To kill an animal for sport too?
We don’t need it to survive.

I hold it,
steady.
I focus,
an object far away.
Then I pull.

That moment
when the gun explodes in your hands,
power shooting out of it,
power in your hands.

That moment
where you are stunned
stunned at the power,
at the sheer force.

And there's a moment
where you think you may die
where you think you are dead.

But then you shake it off,
and see,
no,
you are still alive,
with a gun in your hands,
and an exploded can of soda far away.

You think,
what if it wasn’t soda?
What if it was a person? A soul?
How could anyone do that?
Willingly pull the trigger at someone?

I had the power
to extinguish a light in this world.
In my hands.
One touch away.

One fire,
one bang.

And that fleeting moment
where I thought I would die.