the guns in our hands both shot me unabashedly
and the continents have long since drifted apart.
what's mine is yours
but what's yours is only mine
when I include it in my art.
I dont always just want what I can't have
because I wanted you when I had you too.
words were my first love but now
I write because you're you.
this isn't fun
I don't understand
I liked it much more with a gun in my hand.

Bang! Bang! Bang!
He hits the ground with a thud
the children laugh at his grief
They don't know the horrors he has seen
Blood, gun powder and destruction.
Where did the peace of silence go?
When did we start laughing at a warrior
Maybe when they started to-
Bang!

Truth is the trigger, and it's scent of the pure gun powder.
Guns hired, shots fired, crossed fired, everything hey wired.
Rippling of bullets, Trail of ****** rounds, Tracer rounds, all rebounds.

Faltering skies, Blistering eyes, all those lies, bullets fly!
Like sharp blade, taking turns to trade, those bullets raid.
Smoke in the barrel, those sweet gun carol, music of bangs vector zero.

reigning bullets, covered in red, shots on the head.
Spinning around, dazed and confused, all but train wrecks.
Street lights blur, speaking in slur, losing mind without a cure.

Love with the gun, all came close to none, and ready for the fun.
Squeeze to aim true, and everything blew, all those bullets flew.
Purity in those bullets, truth in the trigger, faith in the gun.

Those bullets in the dark, lighten by the spark, stray bullets embark.
Dripping of red, streaks of red, all those people dead.
Judge not the bullet, not the gun, but the man pulling the trigger!

A WKD bottle and
Pizza slices on the table
Everybody waiting in anticipation
For that beat to drop
Holding each other
In a circle
Arms around each others waist
Smiles spreading laughter
As the magic
Creates swearing and shouts
Somebody's guts
Flushed down the sink
In cleaning products
Shots being taken
Faces pulled
As they squeal for the burning to leave
*Time to go home.

you are the reason behind my late night shots of whiskey

1 shot
I remember the way you looked at me,
the way your eyes undressed my soul
exposing all of me.
i hated that.



2 shots
i remember my heart skipped a beat
at the touch of your hand,
our sweaty palms refused to part.
i thought i hate that.



3 shots
i remember the wetness of your kiss,
how your lips on mine
they tasted of cigarette.
i try to hate that.



4 shots
i remember your body on mine,
the way we intertwine.
you scent all over me
i couldn't hate that.



5 shots
i remember it all
the vision bright in my mind.
this isn't what shots do, right?

6 shots
maybe it'll take a lot more to forget.

I once kissed a boy after too many shots and lots of stupid decisions but I haven’t stopped thinking about him since