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It’s Saturday night
And you call me a fool
Because I’d rather stay home
I don’t live to play cool

It’s still Saturday night
And you drink as you dance
Your arms wrapped around a body
As if you ever stood a chance

It’s almost Sunday
And everything has changed
You went out to have fun
But a gun is pointed at your face

It’s almost Sunday
And blood has been shed
This was your safe place
Now all you see is red

It’s Sunday morning
And the world isn’t fair
The culprit was a weapon
That shouldn’t have been there

It’s Sunday morning
And I’m calling you instead
But you don’t pick up the phone
Because you’re dead
The US are not a safe place to be right now with these gun laws. If you defend them, I'm sorry, but you're not right. People hate on other people's sexualities in other countries as well but they don't walk into clubs and start shooting them, why? Because they don't have guns. Sure, it's the thought that kills and not the weapon, but it's much harder to ****** people without one. The day before this, some random guy shot a singer in the head 3 times after her concert. Today another guy was caught with weapons as he was driving or something to the LA Pride Festival. This is not right. These people should not be allowed to carry weapons. My condolences to the families of the victims from the mass shooting in Orlando. I once wanted to live in the US, I'm not sure about this anymore.
I stroked your hair with cigarette stench fingers
and drowned your lips with whiskey coated kisses....
I should've known
When you said your least favorite part of the ocean
were the waves,
That you wouldn't be there for me
When I crashed.
You're a papercut
Only when I look at you
Does it hurt
the pieces fall into place
&
sometimes
the place falls into pieces
  Jun 2016 Alex's Pipe Dreams
ᗺᗷ
Letters in the sand
The ocean carried away
And never returned
His skin is a battlefield
He was taught to run
But his mouth screams war
With a predator like grin
And his eyes beg for fights
With an unnerving intensity

He calls for danger
And that's what you are
Your mind full of mines
He steps on all of them
And you aim to scar
*But when you both draw your weapons
Love is fired, instead of bullets
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