you can't inhale what my gun exhales...
non violent approach my verbs are my ammunition load 'em up!
aim & they're gonna explode bang! leaking...
that's when the pen starts bleeding...
the paper is a mess,
letters laying everywhere scribbled words scrambling,
provoking thoughts vomiting from my head,
heart beating fast with anticipation, lacking faith,
like having to wait on the verdict gambling with fate!
to be or not to be,
a slave of the state is the question...
twitching with gestures,
palms are sweaty & arms are heavy,
post traumatic stages flashing,
mental mistakes playing mind games
with psychosomatic thoughts dashing
Matching fingertips tipped in the blood of the slave after lashing,
So all I'm asking is!!!
Can you inhale what my mind exhales?
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