The Bullet From My Gun

The Bullet from My Gun I am propelled like a bullet from a gun barreling through space, Through your flesh, Through the time you have misspent on this Earth now ending, Too late to regret the bending trigger of my gun. I penetrate your vagina, Your mind, Your sense of inner self, Tearing through your false resistance like a runaway train. I cannot stop, I am momentum now. Ripping through your many lives, Decimating your hopes for the peace tomorrow that now will never come. Because my trajectory is certain and yours is a wet pipe dream. You are obliterated into fragments by the curling of my finger. Now Isis will never find you. Fear is still a man’s best friend: And a little pressure goes a long ways.