Targeteer

Itty bitty moments for breathing
I reject my skin to be one of those
The terror of being hurt again
Was the beginning of the end
For caring to expose the epidermis
To the hateful words that were
Buried there from before by
Loved ones who only apologized
Afterwords never thinking
Their mouths turned into
Blood red volcanoes
What was he trying so hard to
Shut up for being outspoken
Like a broken cello
He was just writing down what
His eyes told him to
After that he couldn’t stop

It’s as if every gun on the planet was pointing
At him while in the barracks asking the Gods
To protect his spirit from it
Crass bureaucracy of red lines
Inspections and duties
« I never volunteered for this
And they keep giving me more shit! » he said.

Learning how to keep
Away from it personally
Being berated by the rules
Constantly thrusted
Ridiculously exhausting
Uncontrollably annoying city!

You can hear the echoes
Of laughter in the back seat
Almost as cruel as the telekinetic
Dreams that pretended to show up
Proclaiming that someone really cares
When they’re only a phone call away
But they’re manifesting cheap talk instead

It’s tragic to say but true
With all of it coming down
Like cats and dogs from the sky. Ouch!
It doesn’t mean that you’re going to die
So there’s that.

Jaguar spirit jumps out of the way

© GÄ