The words spill out my mouth,
they're flying in his wind.
But you click your tongue and aim your gun,
And then the birds fall, sinking back into your boiling blood.
Spilling into the ground.
Poured over.
You nash your teeth and snarl at me,
And I wonder why I even spoke.
Behind My Eyes
By _TheSunIsAlsoAStar_
A posting of every poem that I've ever written ...in continuation, as I write new things and express myself... More