you're wrenching teeth out of
your own skull with the mangled claw
of a rusty hammer and drinking pints of
blood until you puke

in Sunday School they teach you
your body is a temple but neglect
to inform you that the temple is also
a prime spot to place a gun before
you give the walls a crimson paint-job

at point-blank
range it's
a target you
can't miss

it'll all be over soon

you drive splints beneath your fingernails
and pry off the keratin cell by cell
savoring the agonizing reminder

you are a human
you aren't dead
yet