he aims
pointing his gun
towards me
the bullet leaves the chamber
screaming its way into my skull
the lead entering my forehead
leaving my mind to splatter on the wall behind me like
a haphazard arts and crafts project
red painted emotions
pompom thoughts
beads of memory
my body hits the floor
numbed
he drags me to the bathroom
gently laying me to rest
in the tub as he pours
acid over my self-worth
but i have a thick skin
it clings to my bones
like a child’s grip on their mother’s hand
he then takes out the circular saw
cutting hunks off
of my fleshy dignity
i try to grasp these pieces
of myself
sew them back to
my grated nerve endings
but
i am undone
- V.B.B.
About the Creator
V. B. B
I'm a pessimistic amateur poet and writer that has had a few violent and dark things published. Also, I love to make lists of my favourite movies, t.v. shows, books, and music.
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