rev(olution) lover in reverse

by Atti?

spit glass through my spine
and pretend you’ve shred the back of my hand,
to heal your fragile head-
as the mattress spills its metal jackets
along the open door,
I’ll juggle slugs with open hugs
and use my shoulder blades
to save you the task of time it would take
to stab my back
before you blow that kiss
through hollow lips too careful
to hear the clicks
as two stripped bullets undress the barrel.

ten paces before we draw-
and as you drew a gun to fire I traced conclusion
too short before soon turned
and began to shoot
for sheer amusement;

and as I look into each of your eyes-
at separate times,
as they take turns dancing
adjacent edges on the switchblade
buried in my face-
I find our knife in my pocket;

and watch your pointing fingers
continue down the ridges of my spine-
until the judgement in your eyes
grow sharp enough to dive.

go ahead,
drive that tip of silk
so slow that it feel more cold,
than painful;

more humane
than what it actually is,
more to proper stage
as its performer takes the reigns-
and the action
matches the fire that it’s raped;
despite the fact the flames
feel so cold before they blister
the ridges of mistake.

just fucking stab me!
-or, shoot me first.

I’d love to swallow your jagged edges
for the sake of looking in those eyes
for the final seconds
before the skyline fills my mind;

but as you sit their like a stranger;
lips slightly open
with fresh smoke rolling up your face,
I turn my back and imagine just how it would taste
to end this bullshit without the same old seconds
to waste on forgetting
just how great it was before the final blade
cascaded by.

so, stab me in the front
-shoot me in the back.
I’m so over this old additive-
I’d rather see your blade then taste your bullets,
because at least this way
I never see you pull it.