followed

Followed by death,
The reaper on my shoulders.
Friends dropping from drugs specifically meth.
Now I'm soon to run in to combat, gun never to be holstered.

I have buried friends with holes in their head,
In situations where it should have been my life, but was theirs instead.
I believe I am cursed to walk alone and survive,
No family to care if I live or I die.

This is my life and everyday my heart bleeds.
So I feel the burn in my muscles to relieve me.
Of the agonizing emotion that kills me.