Bullet In My Pocket
Got a bullet in my pocket
riding next to my last dollar bill
little cold comfort saying
there’s always a way
to kill the chill
Maybe it’s for the monsters
maybe it’s for me
got a bullet in my pocket
I swear I’ll never fire
but I still keep the key
I walk past the liquor store window
catch my own reflection in the glass
trying to outrun the clock
until this day can pass
Keys and loose change rattling time
with the ticking in my head
and that piece of cold metal
resting quiet
where the fears have spread
Picked it up on a bad day
when the walls felt too damn tight
slid it down in my pocket
thinking maybe I’d sleep that night
Never bought the gun to go with it
just kept the spark on hold
like a secret I could bargain with
whenever life got bold
Some nights at the bus stop
when the rain cuts straight through bone
I feel it push that denim
like it’s asking
if I’m done being alone
I roll it with my fingers
feel the weight of choice and chance
like a door half-cracked in the hallway
of every messed-up circumstance
Seen too many headlines
sprawled across the grocery line
faces that look just like mine
staring out from under the sign
They probably had something waiting
in a drawer or on a shelf
one more little metal question
sitting there beside their self
I tell it “you’re my parachute”
it calls me its loaded gun
we argue in the dark
when all the daylight’s done
I say “you’re just a symbol”
it says “I’m more than that”
we both know
if I used it
there’d be no turning back
Morning hits like rent notices
and coffee gone sour and thin
I feel that little weight again
and tuck my shirt further in
Step out into traffic
and the sirens and the noise
thinking how much power hides
inside the quietest toys
One day I’ll throw it in the river
where the shopping carts all sleep
watch it drop without a ripple
into water dark and deep
Till then it rides beside me
one small forbidden prayer
like a promise I keep breaking
just by letting it be there
If I make it to the shoreline
and my hands still shake
I’ll let that tiny exit slip
where the river takes the ache
Walk home with lighter pockets
still bruised
still fucked
still free
No more bullet in my pocket
just a beat left inside of me