Pressing Against the Gun You Have To My Head
God what you done recently
my only fear that death
isn't the end of this
counting pennies to buy dinner
see i stand
as you stare
from a ladder
perilously position
on top of a chair
without care
thoughts to air
welcome to my lair
where from shadows glare
unravelled eyes stare
and tendrilled fingertips
seem to point
that i am there
there i know i live in here
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