drunken kung fu

[Destroyer]

i'm a lost nerd with a mossberg and bad posture.
walking by your high school lockers, no longer feeling awkward.
i'm an evil thought stopped before u truly ponder,
the glint of the blade in your mind that u envision using on her.
i shoot through u quick, like an autistic truant with
a ruger kit in an elementary school with kids.
i leave a lot of fluids. reds.
i'm the fishline leading to the homemade incendiary. dead.
i'm the marks that u scratch in the wall,
counting the days til u hear the executioner's tracks in the hall.
i'm the blood that u leave on the floor making the marks,
listening to your fingernails pop while u are scraping them off.
i'm the heavy stench-filled air that is making u cough,
made up of sweat, fear, hope & all the waste that u dropped.
i am your last fleeting wish as soon as u know it will not come true,
i'm the gravel underneath the freight container where they dumped you.
i'm drunken kung fu, not the stunt moves,
but the leftover broken glass from the bottles that fucking cut you.