The bullet flew so quickly from the pistol it felt like the blood in my veins stopped for a moment
As if quantum physics were just a mere myth
Of random laws and physicists
Each individual cell and atom in my body stopped and rushed to abyss

Thump, thump.

As the bullet reached the end of your skull, I swore I died instead of you
But instead of dying and leaving the realm of the living I enter bliss and happiness

Flowers scattered over bright green grass for miles,
Soft and whispering wind rushed past my freckled skin
The trees swayed with the wind
It brought an epitome of perfection, only your carcass brought death and decay

Snapping back to reality, your eyes rolled back, and your jaw opened wide
I wanted to tear it open, to give you a somewhat permanent evil smile
Your body hit the ground so hard, the sound vibrated across my body, giving my heart the ability to beat normally again
You looked so peaceful for a mere moment
I swore I could have kissed you even though I despise your very being

Your skin quickly went colorless, and you laid there so still
I burst into panicked laughter, and covered my filthy mouth
It was definitely rude to laugh at someone's death

My stomach growls, and my hands shake with satisfaction
I've finally done it. I killed my insecurities

After a short moment of freedom and what seemed to be like genuine tears of joy...
Your eyes roll back to normal, and they focus me closely
Rising from the ground, you flick your hair back as if the wind blew it out of place
You fix your shirt, as if the blood stains weren't there

"It's so silly to think you could get rid of me so easily," you say.

I'm never going to feel alive ever again

We are all human beings
We all have our own lives
And different ways we live them
But each one of us is a writer
And this poem is for all of you

All of you who have virtues and use them in your writing
Those who use flashbacks and revisit mental photo albums

Beginning the story from the middle for that’s usually where you mind is at
Looking back then looking forward
Studying the past so you can be ready for what is to come

Recording catastrophes with a number two pencil

Tales and blurbs of tragedy
Caused by love or the lack there of

Rewards and punishment
Self-reliance and self-fulfillment

We are mere narrators
Humble, maybe unreliable
Equipped with numerous devices
Ironic Paradoxes
Red herrings
Fortuitous plot twists
Metaphors
Allegoric hyperboles
Analogies
Oxymorons and onomatopoeias

We sling Chekhov’s gun like bandits of literacy

We’re visionary revolutionaries
Revolution of the mind, body and soul

Changing ourselves and examining who and what we are
To become what we are destined to be
The best

Rejecting convention
Building our own paths
That lead to cliffhangers

Romantic lust
Comedic affairs
Dark massacres
Spiritual healing

Religious speculation
And the questioning of the way we, the people are being governed

We use the tools we are giving to sculpt new art that the world can stand in awe of

Personification
Symbolic imagery

Practicing pastiche with respect
Dionysian imitatio

Surreal reality
Defying mortality

Reiteration and retort

Using nature to express emotion and thought

Doubts and fear

Opposites
Morals and ethics

Satisfying curiosity

Parodying what we see
Embellishing just a little

We us word play to dive deep into the topic of conscious, subconscious and unconscious thought

Using satire to poke fun at the human condition,  its senses and perception of the universe to get readers thinking

Expressing our anger, our boundless joys
Desiring unknown pleasures

Seeing past the fallacies put before us

We write with great candor about war, personal conflicts, and self-abuse

With hinting undertones to give these ideas a second thought

We write of the supernatural, metaphysical mysteries
Outlandish, obscure mind boggling theories

As the clock ticks too fast for us and the characters we’ve created

Demolishing the fourth wall with a sledge hammer of defamiliarization

Epiphanies in a parking lot
Speaking in the 1st, 2nd or 3rd person

Using fun things like anagrams and palindromes
Candy for the lovers of such things

Spontaneity is an understatement
Nonsense is an insulting overstatement
Absurdity seems to fit just right

We are chameleons
We can write in various forms
Streams of gratifying consciousness
Brilliant prose
Beautiful poetry

And chose to use or merely acknowledge the ways to achieve these forms
Rhetoric, rhythm  and rhyme
Meter and mora
Conceit and consonance
Assonance
Intonation
Working with phonaesthetics  

And accenting aesthetics

A poem can or could not be organized as such
If we want to get technical about it

We have a poem
With a number of verses
And in those verses
Are lines
And those lines might rhyme
And have a meter or rhythm
Stressed or unstressed syllables

In contrast to that we may write
Without all of that and use emotion
Feeling and structure our work with what we feel is the best way
Line breaks
Pauses and puns
Silly similes
Ambiguous antonyms  
Intonation, linguistics
Fight against the fascists of grammar and conservative correctness

So, in the end we are writers of a rainbow kaleidoscope forms, devices, ways and ideas

But we alone are the ones who make the world think
Make it move
Revolt
Renew
Learn
Look back
Remember
Cry
Smile
Forget
Ease

Write my friends write until your mind explodes and your fingers bleed

Read, read and become inspired
Even if what you’re reading is bad cheese

Forget getting published it’s the writing that matters
Disregard the off-putting, critical chatter

And if you think no one reads
Than be the seed and sprout a tree of astounding artistry
And let’s begin a new movement composed of ideals that will hold true forever
I might be preaching to the choir but it must be said that poetry; literature isn’t dead

Lust is a feeling that we all endure,
pain is a suffering which cannot be ignored,
lift the weight off your shoulders and lay down your strife,
I will listen to you.

My child, put down that knife,
hear my words of wisdom profound,
your body is a temple and will not be torn,
Lay down your life, place it on the ground

For love is not a sin,
and I will pour mine onto you,
my healing salve which utters lyrics,
of sweetest songs on innocent tongues,

you are forgiven of life's mysteries,
For my son gave his life,
fathomed by cruelty,
you are to be helped through the strife,

Poetic words form a helpless beauty,
for which your song must die,
I will give you a new song forever sung,
poured down on you from the sky,

Listen my child and do not boast,
of this love for which I promise,
I cannot tell if you love me most,
or your prized possession, be honest.

Despite your flaws my child I love,
to sing over you each night as you sleep,
My child, put down that knife,
for by my love you must keep.

Droplets of blood form crimson waves,
as you forget to listen for my voice,
but, I will caress your wounds
my child, you have a simple choice

Love yourself as I have loved,
as difficult as it may seem,
and I will reward you with treasures of heaven
at my right hand your made clean.

A Love so infinite and pure,
is the one I wish to give,
my child please don't ignore,
or you will slip through my fingers like a sieve.