The Firearm and the Fog

Trigger happy as I stare
at the stars, blasting holes
in the clouds and drawing pictures
with gunpowder. So far the smoke
from my fingertips leaves only
more smog for the slaughter.
The constellations came some time
after, perfectly hidden behind
the firearm and the fog.
It’s written in the sky,
I would bring about my own demise.

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