as i release them from their cold metal chamber
they freefall to the floor in slow motion.
each one hits the ground with a "ting ting"
every sound is sharper and louder in this empty soulless house.
i'm sitting in the hollow darkness,
i cant stand the lights as their holy fluorescence burns
my poor tear ridden eyes.
the only light now is the muzzle flash, and
every time it flashes a smile another little soldier
finds its way across the filthy room tearing through
the weak drywall. the dust and pieces of plaster look like
blood and flesh being tossed in different wild directions.
as ugly as it all looks i find it to be the only beauty left.
your face is no longer recognizable, so the comfort i seek
shall be in my new best friend. Or rather, in his art.
His name is carved into his rough metallic hide. It says "Glock."
My hand clutches the letter containing your bitter goodbye
crushed and crumpled like so many of my feelings.
Your fucking words are a mockery. You never loved me.
Glock's artwork forming in the dead wall every time he smiles
is my new passion. He shall be my temple now, and oh how i will pray.
Finally I'm finished painting the wall with my emotions.
Glock made me a smiley face. How sweet.


fuck...i need a cigarette