Dead Man Walking

If Pen is mightier than the sword I am dead man walking All of these letters, bullets. They rip through Skin and crush bone Words sharp gnaw On Ears And eyes Line after line Cuts as paper a thousand times over Every vowel and every consonant Transformed into verse Hammers Flesh into submission I will bleed With each allusion Would I have known That in this was no healing balm This poetry is Idolatry And this is my suicide