The Mind Made of Bullets
To the left of me,
To the right of me,
In the front,
In the back.
I don’t move, I don’t breathe,
I look at them, through my blurred eyes.
They have their most powerful weapon aimed at me,
The weapon which does not hurt,
The weapon which kills.
I look around,
I’m surrounded,
There’s nowhere to run, to hide, to escape.
I’m waiting,
Waiting for the sound of death.
Then, out of nowhere,
They fire.
Their weapon rips me open,
Tearing me of my pride,
Making me hollow.
I beg for mercy,
I say I’ll do anything for it,
Anything.
But they don’t stop,
They’re still firing,
They pay no attention to my pleading,
They’re still firing.
“Klaudia, could you tell me the equation for speed?”
I look around,
Everyone’s looking at me
“is it distance divided by time?”
“correct”
Everybody looks back at the teacher,
Unaware,
That they’re still firing.
Copyright © Klaudia Barylska | Year Posted 2017
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