Chewing on metal,
I can’t feel it settle.
This odd object paces
Passing so many faces,
Lodging itself into mine—
Will I ever be fine?
Cracking my skull,
As if I were simply a bull.
I hear the cries,
But all that weeps, dies.
My eyes are dark,
I guess the bullet finally made its mark.
Nov 29, 2025
Nov 29, 2025 at 4:03 AM UTC
Chewing on metal,
I can’t feel it settle.
This odd object paces
Passing so many faces,
Lodging itself into mine—
Will I ever be fine?
Cracking my skull,
As if I were simply a bull.
I hear the cries,
But all that weeps, dies.
My eyes are dark,
I guess the bullet finally made its mark.
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