nü bullet...

Brand new simple bullet that I am. Locked within this metal jacket lies the cold yet burning gunpowder heart that pumps poison through my short and sadistic trip. As my brothers intertwine I delay for my final jump, inside this gears and springs I gently but surely fit myself for the metal equivalent of a clusterfuck chamber.

As the heat burns through and pushes like and unbreakable will I release myself from this static, precise and calculated mechanism into a battlefield, into a deathwish. Speed, heat, lead, faith altogether.

Free falling into a face, my bullet shoulder knocking into a cheekbone burning and cutting through flesh and bones, diving in a brain. Pushing the skull and killing my way out of this unfinished and abandoned thought after the clean and simple entrance, just waiting to hit the wall across the purple haze that showers my unwanted goal. Truth be told I’ve never cared, for I was not the gun, nor the hand, nor the shooter, nor the world, I was just a bullet.