in the hands of a caliber
The murmurs in the wind named me a whore
According to those prayers i never wished for more
Than to be touched by the purest
And held like fine wine
All In the hands of a caliber
I held that knife like i held you darling
And when you told me all i am is ing boring
I threw the knife straight between your eyes
Hoping you wouldn't notice the hole in my mourning
And i told you death was better mercy
In the hands of a caliber
No one can hurt me
So i slashed off my hair
And killed all my friends
Hoping i'd never again find a caliber in my hands
Woah for this winter
Mourn for this winter
Up here in the mountains
No one can hurt you
Expect for the snake
That hides in the hole
With the same name
Same voice, and same clothes
And it hisses at you
To reconcile
All in the hands of a caliber
Copyright © Layla Sweigart | Year Posted 2025
Post Comments
Poetrysoup is an environment of encouragement and growth so only provide specific positive comments that indicate what you appreciate about the poem. Negative comments will result your account being banned.
Please
Login
to post a comment