gun shots in my head
lead against my skull
bouncing off like rubber pellets
going pop-a-pop pop
make it pieces of glass
like splinters in my head
going off like a shrapnel
click-a-click clock clock
tommy guns and revovlers
lethal and omnipresent
in perfect harmony
going rat-a-tat tat
if only words were weapons
they would feel good
but that again is a cheap substitution
for a weapon so good....
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