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SleepingPewtyPoems
When you're left with only a bullet I'll be the barrel you're gazing into. I'd rather be your itchy trigger finger... the deciding factor; not the cause of death. If we swapped positions, I guarantee you'd choose to be the scope. Watching,      aiming,         waiting. I bet you prefer ****** rifles with the distance in between us. I prefer pistols because you're too close for comfort. Every time the walls echo, I hear explosions and gun shots. Sometimes I hide under my pillow, like a soldier in the trenches... but your memory is between my sheets, and you know exactly where to find me. See... I feel like you're cheating, But nothings fair in war        or love. And did you even love me? I'm in a skirmish with myself, and the ghost of you is on the side of me that I don't recognize anymore. The scariest thing in the world is to be haunted by someone who's still alive. Whisper to me that you hate me so I'll leave the window open. Come and go as you please. I beg pardon for the invitation but if I can pretend I have a choice, maybe I won't be the one with the barrel in my mouth.
0
Jul 20, 2015
Jul 20, 2015 at 10:05 PM UTC
uncivil war
When you're left with only a bullet I'll be the barrel you're gazing into. I'd rather be your itchy trigger finger... the deciding factor; not the cause of death. If we swapped positions, I guarantee you'd choose to be the scope. Watching,      aiming,         waiting. I bet you prefer ****** rifles with the distance in between us. I prefer pistols because you're too close for comfort. Every time the walls echo, I hear explosions and gun shots. Sometimes I hide under my pillow, like a soldier in the trenches... but your memory is between my sheets, and you know exactly where to find me. See... I feel like you're cheating, But nothings fair in war        or love. And did you even love me? I'm in a skirmish with myself, and the ghost of you is on the side of me that I don't recognize anymore. The scariest thing in the world is to be haunted by someone who's still alive. Whisper to me that you hate me so I'll leave the window open. Come and go as you please. I beg pardon for the invitation but if I can pretend I have a choice, maybe I won't be the one with the barrel in my mouth.
SleepingPewty
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SleepingPewty
Jul 20, 2015
Jul 20, 2015 at 10:05 PM UTC
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