I put bullets into spaces
load them with
these hidden things
that  i fear

i'm scrambling back up
a verse
the pressure is
too much

i think i'm putting bullets
into spread sheets and
check books
today

these dangerous things
lying around
haunting me
loaded

capsizing in a false
narrative
and sliding down
the throat

imaginary gall
fantastical struggle
pathos with ethos
just need nachos

that's some action
see the typist type
seated anywhere
really anywhere else