She’s pulling the trigger
Shaking and breaking,
With the cold barrel on her side.
It’s about to end,
But she is being found.

She’s about to let go,
Breathing and living,
With the bullet loaded.
It’s going to end,
But she’s being stopped.

She’s not fixed,
Bruised and confused,
With all this pain.
It hasn’t healed the scars,
But she’s being hugged.

She’s still living,
No longer alone and on her own,
With the arms of a long lost friend.
It has only just begun,
But she’s not alone.

She’s not alone.