Pistol

Divulge or dissolve
That crack whipped core
You're brutal beatings
That breed more, puss filled sore.

Sheet ice on the skin,
Ripped and dug out.
Deep to the dark tones, it goes.
All is mess.

Sloshed or slashed, across the face
You lose this race
Three wheels in four
Give nothing, but screeches.

With shards of sharp light,
Hard pure madness.
Maddened by sense,
And simplicity.

Cave in their head, it says.
And we will all be dead.
Keeps things interesting.
Keeps it entertaining.

They are not words, thoughts.
Wrangling the wrestled,
Arguments to be had,
Pinned down, whether good nor bad.

Tempted, I'd say so.
A piece of cake, why not let go.

Step out.

One, then two.
Which part of that was you.
Secure, and in place.
Now, it is safe.

Soft corners of life,
Boxed in pieces of taste.
Gifted, or given.
That was yours all along.

Hur kan man sager?
How can you say it?