I am limited to something so fine
a different type of speech, its not mine
I can not play a tune with my heart
every thought and word sets me apart
I'm on mute,
I hold my gun an point to shoot
a single bullet rolls out
it falls on the floor with a crack
and out rolls the powder not gray, but black
with a wet palm I gather what was left to remain
and approach with my soul the blank window pane
I scrawl out for my tears to observe
only looking from the other side its absurd
anger rises, blood pumping in my ears
written for the world to see are my fears
but no one can read them when they are backwards
with one hand I smudge it all away
and let another bullet loose, astray
this time it shot out, didn't wait for the trigger
and right at the glass, it quivered
the window remained intact, the bullet splattered my soul
though I remember pointing it towards the words written in coal