Promise not to tell

Break my hand and see if my bones are made of calcium and carbon too. Shatter my ribs and drive a railroad spike through my stomach just to see if my blood is black and blue. Take out some violence, penantent, on me until you cave. Tear me open until you can see through the thin veil of skin I’m wrapped in.

I guarantee you won’t like what you see.

A rainbow and the gradient between the colors represents my worldview and perspective. These moments of my understanding are places, rightfully so, everyone else avoids. But for those who also caged a star and have gone out alone. One or two of them can comprehend the broken path I’ve known.
One or two of them see through a pattern’s sensory disorientation.
A few of them have touched the moon and come back down, too.

Together, we can make it through.
Together, we’re all stronger than a few.

So we lie out in the grass, in the woods, in the dark. Lie out of the rules, of the pattern, of the right and wrong. Lie out beyond the razorblades and razor-topped fences that block the rest of society in. Lie out from the median, the proper process, the answers they demand you know, repeat, relive, pass on. Lie out on your back, in the sun, until the moment comes.

A shot through my head is going to kill me; the only question is who’s aiming the gun.
A shot through my heart is sure to kill me; the only question is how long I let it go on.
A shot through my bones is bound to kill me; the only question is how bad does it get.

A shot in the dark is about to end me.
I have no question who’s got a gun.


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