Its September Poem by Rachel Weaver

Lay the knife down next to me, it shines so nicely
Lay the gun down next to me, it looks so inviting
Now you lie down next to me
I see no difference in these three things
What are you? What is me?
I'm a bullet and your my impurity
Loving me isnt easy obviously
Because I'm alone, stuck in this room
A place I'm supposed to call home
Its nothing but a cold bleak place.
Nothing but a little personal space
At least in here
Im without you
But you'll never see or understand what your doing to me