Where are the guns!?

They destroy me

They eat at my soul

They make me piss in my pants

Yellow-stained jeans

 

Where are the guns!?

They make me nervous

They make me cum

They make me hard

Between the thighs

 

Where are the guns!?

The leftover scent

The touch and glare

The overwhelming blend

If I do so, I dare!

 

Where are the guns!?

They penetrate my mind

All my senses, all the time

They revolt me

And make my puke

They disgust me and make me fall

 

Where are my guns!?

They sing to me

In midnight dreams

On wet pillows

And cow cummed disease!

 

Where are my guns!?

They make me write and paint

And listen and explore

And kiss and kneel

And travel all around

 

Where are my guns!?

They make my death closer and closer

Near I come

Oh, Where are my guns!?

 

 

 

© 1998 David Greg Harth

98.03.11.16:36:27@10036NYC