expanding

A bubble gun exploded the other day,

And as they pop and ascended into the atmosphere,

So did the eardrums of the civilians they laughed at.

I thought I knew the details of their souls,

The aching,

The urging.

I thought my own cavities and bullet wounds had tied themselves up with a bow

And decorated my eyes gracefully with a hint of glitter for the next little night out

Time to exist like I'm not even trying

Isn't that what they tell us?

To not pick your nails

Or else they'll be ruined and someone'll lose interest.

They don't realise that the skin being pulled and tugged down to the knuckle

Is a restrained release of my privately considered opinions,

And not the explosion of colour I wish they'd stop denying my parched lips.

The bubble gun, it exploded by its own free will

That was programmed into the blood it shed

For the sake of the good of the world.