• Your brilliance
    Blinds me.
    I taste
    The salt.
    The barrel,
    It burns.

    I stare
    In awe.

    I lick
    My lips
    And spin
    The rifle.
    It slaps
    And bruises
    And still
    It stays.

    I
    Am tired.
    My arms
    Are searing;
    Fire
    Is blood
    Running
    In my veins.
    It hurts.

    And hurts.

    And hurts.

    Hurts

    Hurts

    Hurts

    But you,
    You stare
    And tell me,
    Try harder.

    I say,
    Yes Ma'am
    And slacken
    My arms.

    Gasp,
    I don't;
    Cry,
    I don't—

    I hitch
    The rifle
    Higher
    And grimace
    Only
    In my heart.

    Harder,
    Next time.
    Try harder.
    The ice
    Floods
    Me.

    I tighten
    And feel
    My purple
    Arms break
    Inside,
    But I—

    I hold,
    And lock
    My pain
    Away.