Ballistics
Missing for the time being.
I feel my death is near.
If only I could find the source
Of the projectiles
Then perhaps I could stop this
Madness.
But I am the unwitting source,
And I have one last bullet
For my mouth tunnel
Because my mouth is the easiest target,
My tongue the betraying scout.
You tell me, “Don’t shoot,”
And lunge just in time
To cut my tongue out.
I am saved.
No comments:
Post a Comment