i'm reloading my sleek black shotgun,
jamming my broken thumb into each magazine
like a silver knife entering a socket
to restart my heart stuck in rigor mortis
after i hushed it away to bed
electrified by the onslaught of despair,
a universal chain reaction shared by many,
it's visceral and my flesh is melting
i'm reborn, aching oncemore for supper
numb mornings are expected,
but i'm wincing at my ignited cells
grimacing before tolerance sips my pain
this gift i wield,
that i found and i made,
a beauty all in one
with the destruction it can bring
it's heavy to carry, and my muscles are tired
this dark beauty loves affection
the first time it shattered my reflection,
but i promise my aim has improved...
no longer jaded by your statistics
i'm juxtaposed to your failures
stepping away from the light
to what i know best: myself
i handed you the prettiest flowers
as you can tolerate their aroma
and not the blood i throw up
my art requires material
to release my eternal anguish of despair
swiftly, i tie the strands of hair i pull out
restraining my lungs
one by one
and each shotgun shell, tied with a ribbon
inscribed with my initials
to prove your trauma didn't hunt me
i did, and now i'm taxidermy.