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Monica Alvarez Feb 2021
9mm
I was back in my prison-- the four walls of my room.
Emotions were shooting like pistols.
My head is about to go boom.
Silverflame Aug 2019
Quick with a gun
bullets; one two three
I love you, shoot your mercy into me
They took you away, I've lost everything
I'm too scarred, tonight my pistol sings

❇❇❇

I just wanted to come with you
show me your hometown
I just wanted to be like you
far away from where they gun us down

I won't let them take you away
I'll stand my ground
I will make it all okay
Pinky promise, I'll never let you down

Violence and blood hail around me
I'll take my cover
I might drown in my own red sea
But anything for you, my darling lover

My lynx sat the world on fire
The madmen fell to the ground
With you, my love won't expire
As long as you're safe and sound

I was too late to catch your flight
But your soul is safe with me
We didn't get to say goodbye
The eternal sleep has its claws in me

❇❇❇

Shoot me a line and I'll go there
If you're not breathing, I just don't care
Like Bonnie and Clyde against all odds
We bleed freedom; we can't be stopped
Triscuit Jan 2018
My emotions are like a pistol in a holster.
I've kept them seated for weeks, trying to convey a maturity.
I don't need you to turn to, and I grow a little each day.
Change is hard, but our vignette was harder.
Chapter by chapter we grew more climactic.
Drama begets danger, and the ringing sounds like shrill bells, each one screaming a letter of your name.
I put on my headphones and get to work.
I will undo the anger I've seen, you can't drag me under.
Healing is a long process and doesn't happen easily.
TheRiverStyx Dec 2017
Thicker beard.
Consistent and stringent hygiene habits.
Less swearing, more silence.
Politically informed.

More attentive while driving.
Relocated out of that seaside town where people only feuded.
Avoids familiar faces, except for those that have been held close.
At least the beach is still pristine.

Some miles away, a man believes he deserves everything there ever was.
Indefinite lay-offs for current federal employees.
All military members on leave called back to base.

A box is somewhere.
It has food for one day,
Two passports,
And a pistol.
It sits idly by the door.
purpu May 2017
letting it go too far over
whispering lines none too sober
deep into superficial radical concerns
but the comfort theme overall well stirred
fulfilling holes by plain symbolic gestures
miming intentions in meaningless false truths–

eyes on the pistol, the cure as a symbol.
Andy Nov 2016
Man wants the pistol fully loaded.
He wants the cool brushed steal,
the soft worn wood, the capacity for death.

Fearful of overcrowding - death loads a blank.  A ***** with no ammo.
No power over life or strength in death.
All this I needn't worry; I favour the knife.

Life pours icy smoke from chalice lips
Coloured with the flag of every nation.
Daren't a silver bangle fall tearfully to the pistol - barrel in mouth, I fear no evil.
Marquis Hardy Aug 2016
He made a gun out of his finger and thumb, and ****** his hand back as if representing the kickback of a pistol.
If it was just his hand then why did my white shoes become speckled red, and why did the light fleet from his eyes?
It's etched into my memory, the day it became more than a joke, the day it wasn't laughs that followed, but instead smoke.
The sick part is, I still have those shoes, they're sitting by my front door stained brown from dry blood.
I'm not sure why I kept them, maybe it's because that's all I have left of my brother.
Just a concept piece. Don't freak out.
*******
****** of
****** o
******
Pisse
****
Pis
Pi
P
Pi
Pis
Pist
Pisto
Pistol
T
To
A
T
Ta­
Tar
Targ
Targe
Target
A little fun poem i just decided would be cool to type.
Arlo Disarray Sep 2015
there is no sound
hasn't been for eight days, now
and the hallow silence catches all my words before they can reach maturity

i have music playing in my head,
but i can't hear it
i have music playing in my head,
but it's more of a feeling than a song
it has no melody, or lyrics
it has no beat
no life
but it's there

cobblestones run beneath the feet of horses
and large wooden wheels
turning and grinding
but still, i hear nothing

i watch the woman whose walk reminds me of a train
as she pulls out a pistol and shoots at a nearby street sign
then drops to her knees,
attempting to cry

the silence is killing me
and i wish i could hear myself screaming
but it seems this is the final stop
and i'm just glad i don't have that far to walk
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