It's obvious
Static masked my thoughts
She couldn't plow through to truth
For I was still breathing
The gun in her purse
Much to my disappointment
Fully loaded and cold
I walked away
Navigated by telepathic insects
Scraping electrical pathways
Riding bitter cells, binary parasites,
Through narcotic blunted veins
To head and heart
Either one my preferred destination
Of her merciful ammunition
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