I've got imagination
like knives
cutting with surrealism

Humor
like lightning bolts
blinding with white teeth

Creativity
like a crossbow
loaded with ideas and will
instead of arrows

Kindness
like pistols
my bullets fast
as two teens falling in love

My mind
like a grenade
one I throw out
and keep myself locked somewhere else

My weaponry doesn't look very dangerous,
but that's because they cut somewhere else.
Because I **** them with my heart.