Your brilliance
Blinds me.
I taste
The salt.
The barrel,
It burns.

I stare
In awe.

I lick
My lips
And spin
The rifle.
It slaps
And bruises
And still
It stays.

I
Am tired.
My arms
Are searing;
Fire
Is blood
Running
In my veins.
It hurts.

And hurts.

And hurts.

Hurts

Hurts

Hurts

But you,
You stare
And tell me,
Try harder.

I say,
Yes Ma'am
And slacken
My arms.

Gasp,
I don't;
Cry,
I don't—

I hitch
The rifle
Higher
And grimace
Only
In my heart.

Harder,
Next time.
Try harder.
The ice
Floods
Me.

I tighten
And feel
My purple
Arms break
Inside,
But I—

I hold,
And lock
My pain
Away.