If you breathe my soul,
It is stained with guilt.
Disgusting with regret,
And it carries a sickening stench of memories that haunt me.
If I smell your gun,
Even through this pixelated screen,
Will I smell your blood or mine?
Will it have your past,
Or my future?
My face and yours begin to blur together.
And I stare into the mirror,
And I don’t know what to think,
Because I am staring into a pool of knowledge,
A face of a killer.
I am watching it unfold before me.
These victims
Becoming the assailants.
I am trying to make you understand
I am you.
Just not who you are right now.
That is why
We are twins, you and I.
I am trying to tell you
I do not hate you.
I do not hate any of you.
I am just trying, trying to make you understand
That the numerous times you’ve fired your AK-47s
And M-19s,
And whatever other guns you own,
They have rendered you deaf,
And the dust has made you blind.
The smoke warps my facial features,
And they mix with yours.
My eyes become just a little bit wider.
My skin is just a little bit darker.
Would you please just stop shooting for a moment?
Would you?
You are always forgetting
That I am your future
And your past.
Killing me
Means killing you.