Bullets for words,
Without considering the exit wound.
Your hand continually strains the blood from my heart.
Tight grasp.
Steady grip.
No escape.
The bag goes rip.
And then the world
Spirals.
Down.
And up.
Puke your ******* guts.
Down and up.
I don't mind throwing up.
Down and up.
Until it stops.
And then
Back again.
Black again.
Wake up.
Wake up.
Wake the **** up!
I cant.