Monday, September 24, 2007

the smoke clears

the gun explodes

i am used to the smoke

swirling and circling and dancing with my pores
dark grey curls
grab at my neck
short
deep
breaths only
intensify
the pain

and its so dark in this smoke
and it claws at me so
i start to choke
my brain turned to yolk
and my hand

holding the gun