I think I pulled the trigger
when you handed me the gun
and sure I know a thing or two
about makin the right choice
but at 25 I still make friends
with those bottles on my shelf
I wanna throw you down for never
warning me about a damn thing
but it was me who fired the shot
so I'll bite the bullet instead
I took a trip to hell in the spring
spent the summer ruckin around
in the mud and sweat and pain
with rounds clipped in my belt
and hits goin down
I had rain on rusted metal
and gun smoke on my clothes
had to watch a few people break
when shit kept goin south
but the worst sin I did
was go and let myself down
well I'm mad as hell
that I wasn't stronger
and I know I was selfish to come along
but I liked the suffering anyway
so I'm gonna bite the bullet now
I'm on my way home
back out west where the sun lays down
where I got folks livin around
I haven't been the best I could be
but save a glass for me, my friend
because I'm ready to come on down
so that old me can bite the bullet
YOU ARE READING
Dysphoria
Poetry"I dreamt I grew roots and sunk into deep earth, Where mud became my skin and dampened grains freckled my surface, I opened my mouth wide for the sprouting branches Leaf-speckled limbs And sunflowers blossomed from my eyes, Sunlight bled in waves, w...
