giving up the gun

I don’t know what to do anymore. It’s all so standard. I’m not giving up, mom. Lying in bed every day, not caring about anyone who never cared about me. I’m not giving up, dad. Sleeping until 5pm, popping the pills they gave me to relax. I’m not giving up. I just don’t know what to do since you’ve left. If you left, what’s keeping me here? I’m not giving up.