Just a word
No not even that
A mere gesture to convey your open ear
Or even a breath to show your consciousness as I speak
Not much
Not a lot I ask for to feel my words still hold worth
Still remain spoken
To be heard and then understood
Rather than inscribed to only be manipulated
So many have met such a fate
Consumed by the carnivorous mind
Chewed up by the sharp teeth of darkness
And spat out in bullets by the trigger of your own tongue
Guns don't **** people
Nor the shooter who takes life into their hand
I bear so many wounds
And still I remain a target to the never ceasing attacks
Which in ending still manage to keep injuries accumulating
No shooter to be proclaimed murderer
No gun found to cause death
Guns don't **** people
Thoughts however do