The 9mm in the Death of Love

July 30, 2008
i got so much
so much i want you to know, take, see, believe in
but you don't
your mind's limited
hands cuffed
brain off
eyes shut

and it's typical, right?
these stanzas
i want to express myself
so i write
you have other ways
and nine out of ten times
they consist of you being a jerk.

and most of the time i'm alright with that
but it's different now
distance has made me forget
but written in those brown eyes is:
and your smile translates:
i MISS you

and just like old times
i find myself deep in thought
trying to understand
the most complex human in this world
(in case they were wondering)
is you

i find myself questioning why it is
that every time you cry
i die a little
and everytime you're sick: i sneeze
and i feel your pain
like a bullet through my skull
spit from a 9mm belonging to whoever's hand

and if things keep going the way they are
then consider that hand your's

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