A Loaded Gun 

Find the safe in my mind then unlock it/ so I can load my pen with a topic/ grab the safety but just to clock it/ and then clench my fist and cock it/ only I can utilize these optics/ and the target starts off microscopic/ my pulse beats like a clock tick/ as I slowly become psychotic/ the power coursing through me is hypnotic/ and then it hits me like a narcotic/ and I squeeze the trigger as if robotic/ the timing is always symbolic/ of a hunger that’s turned catabolic/ it fits my twisting mind like a socket/ but the bullets are more similar to rockets/ because nothing can stop or block it/ the aim and target are based in logic/ but the results can be idiotic/ when people see the shots as chaotic/ and fired while I’m neurotic/ no, I just like my prey to be exotic/ and yet this thing I do is chronic/ killing thoughts that turn demonic.

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