“bullets bullets bullets”

bullets bullets bullets
sideways rain of swordtips fired
confusion, weakness, temptation
sparking off the fenders of your fast-breathing
heart.

it is not crossfire, friendly fire or even
enemy fire

it is not
your
own
fire,
the flames
duck
the wrath of these

bullets bullets bullets
sideways rain of swordtips

shattering the glass vase
atop the blender in your stomach,
cracking your bones like 8-balls in the grave’s
corner pocket.

bullets bullets bullets
bullets bullets bullets
bullets bullets bullets

bullets.

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