Just because we check our guns at the door doesn't mean we enter unarmed.
Grenades for minds
Knives for words.
Phrases strangling
Stabbing actions
We hide our gleaming guns behind the flowers in our lungs
Hard to breathe
Bullets for words
Aching breathe
Shaking hands
Our masks hide our true forms; skeletal and dry
Monsters in the night
Creaking doors
Flowers hide the metallic stench of hate.
Tulips on a coffin.
Pull the pin
Close the door
Let it out
Stop thinking
Ticking bomb
Scream it
Hide it
Cut it out
Lose you mind
I'm fine
