2012-05-31 1:24:24 ¶ ●

> You can’t get out of this one, Henry, you can’t get it out of me, and with this bullet

> lodged in my chest, covered with your name, I will turn myself into a gun, because

> it’s all I have,

> because I’m hungry and hollow and just want something to call my own. I’ll be your

> slaughterhouse, your killing floor, your morgue and final resting, walking around with this

> bullet inside me”

Richard Siken